


Cheerful One

by omaidoggo



Category: ONEUS (Band), ONEWE (Band)
Genre: Aged-Down Character(s), Alternate Universe - Children, Alternate Universe - Idols, Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Fluff, Gen, Head Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:14:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 38,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28073043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omaidoggo/pseuds/omaidoggo
Summary: If you had told Jin Yonghoon he’d literally be shipped off to an island in the middle of nowhere any other day, he would have laughed, patted your back, and nodded along just to entertain you. Today, however, was not just any day, and he was indeed being shipped to an island against his will. It’s just his luck he meets the island brat, Son Dongmyeong, a hyperactive seven-year-old who just won’t leave him alone. He means it endearingly.Clouds loom overhead — but together with Dongmyeong’s friends, Yonghoon just might have a good time.Loosely based on the anime Barakamon.
Relationships: Jin Yonghoon & Ju Harin, Jin Yonghoon & Kang Hyungu | Kanghyun, Jin Yonghoon & Kim Youngjo | Ravn, Jin Yonghoon & Lee Giwook | Cya, Jin Yonghoon & Son Dongmyeong, Son Dongju | Xion & Son Dongmyeong
Comments: 39
Kudos: 26





	1. Part 1- Cicadas Sang That Summer Day

**Author's Note:**

> hi! i saw a tweet that was like, "when you realize onewe was an adult with four teenagers, suddenly their dynamic makes a lot more sense," and decided to up that to 100 so here we are. please enjoy!  
> (also, this fic uses the korean age system since, well, they're korean so yeah. have fun!)

If you had told Jin Yonghoon he’d literally be shipped off to an island in the middle of nowhere any other day, he would have laughed, patted your back, and nodded along just to entertain you. Today, however, was not just any day, and he was _indeed_ being shipped to an island by ferry, “for his health,” Youngjo, his manager, claimed.

He didn’t need the trip. Okay, sure, maybe he had been caught in the studio at increasingly late-turning-to-early hours, maybe he had accidentally skipped a few meals, and _maybe_ he had fainted while trying to make it to a meeting last week, but what could he do? The comeback was in two months, which wasn’t a very long time when Yonghoon couldn’t even _think_ of anything to fill out the album. Even with the other producers, there was just something lacking in the melodies, the lyrics, you know, the things _he was in charge of._ He had a standard to meet, and he wasn’t about to let creative block stop him.

He guessed that’s why Youngjo had dragged him out here in the first place, very much against his will.

The ferry trip itself was uneventful, if not full of nausea. From the moment he spotted the island in the distance however, the nausea went away, replaced by the reality of his fortune dawning on him. He was going to be out on this remote island, away from the city, away from his studio, doing absolutely, positively _nothing._ He couldn’t afford to do that. He thought of all the time wasted being here, all the crunch he’d have to do when he returned, that he _had_ been doing for the past few months, in preparation for it, and suddenly he was overtaken with a headache from more than just seasickness. Some island vacation this was — this was _exile._

The world spun under him as he stumbled off the ferry, his legs shook like a newborn fawn’s, and the gnawing urge to go back to his studio and just _work work work_ on his music didn’t help his insides at all. He was more than a little embarrassed when the ship captain laughed at him as she took his arm and slung it over her shoulder to steady him as if he wasn’t a full 24 centimeters taller.

“Thanks… captain-nim.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said with a grunt as she pulled him up further. The sudden jolt nearly caused him to lurch out whatever he’d eaten before coming, and it only earned him more laughs from the captain. Yeah, this was _really_ embarrassing.

The captain dropped him off on a bench on the port before another woman came running to them with a big bright smile. She waved, and the captain waved back.

“Yongsun!”

“Hyejin! Glad you made it back,” Yongsun said as she wrapped the captain — Hyejin he guessed — in a hug. She glanced at Yonghoon’s miserable, miserable form and laughed. “This Yonghoon-ssi?”

“Yup.”

Yongsun nodded at Hyejin and patted Yonghoon on the back.

“Aww, c’mon now son, no need to look so sad.”

“I’m not sad…” Yonghoon managed to whine. He stood up, but immediately the world spun again — and he would have collapsed into a big puddle of mush on the bench if both Yongsun and Hyejin hadn’t caught him in time. The women shared a tangible giggle before Yongsun heaved his entire body onto her shoulders.

“Ah, seasick, I see. Well, it if makes you feel any better, welcome to land!”

“Thank you, Yongsun-ssi.”

“D’aw, no worries,” she said. They sat down and waited until Yonghoon was somewhat confident enough in his own step to walk, _thank you very much._ Yongsun smiled then, shouted farewells to Hyejin, and began to lead Yonghoon onto the main road, toward the place he’d be staying at.

It didn’t take long to be led to the house: a small, simple hanok like all the other houses on the island. In any other situation, Yonghoon would have called it romantic. But right now? It looked like a prison.

“And here are your keys,” Yongsun said, handing him, well, the keys. “Your other stuff’ll be delivered by this evening. For now, make yourself at home, and enjoy your stay!”

“Thank you,” Yonghoon said with a bow. Yongsun smiled, and after exchanging a few waves, walked away to do… whatever she was supposed to be doing. Like that, he was left in the quiet with nothing but his bag, the keys, and the buzzing of cicadas in the summer afternoon.

This was going to be a long and boring wait…

He regretted the thought as it came — after all, the island and its village were… well, he would have said beautiful. The greenery, the water, the sky — all pristinely green and blue despite the clouds settling in over the horizon. Everything about this was beautiful — that much his eyes, his mind could tell. Yet, his heart couldn’t join the sentiment.

Mark his surprise then, when he opened the door to the supposedly-uninhabited-hanok to find chips and pillows scattered across the floor. Yongsun wasn’t around to answer for it, luckily for her, but unluckily so for Yonghoon.

He scoffed. Alright, whatever gods were watching over Yonghoon in the heavens, you could stop playing pranks now! Add cleaning up a mess on top of moving in? Wasn’t that like salt to the wound? Hadn’t he suffered enough misfortune already? He hoped they laughed as much as he had as he kicked the pillows aside and set his bags down in the central, living room area. There had to be a broom in the kitchen, right?

It didn’t take long to find the kitchen, but finding the broom was a whole different story. It was like everything that could be slightly inconvenient was being exactly that, a cruel joke that friends kept adding on and on. Fortunately, Yonghoon also considered himself to have a great sense of humor. He’d play along with whatever games the gods wanted to play that day-

That is, until he found a child hiding in the closet.

He wasn’t sure what was louder — his scream or the child’s squeal. They crawled out from the closet and threw their arms in the air.

“Ta-da!”

Yonghoon didn’t even know what kind of things he said as he clutched his chest and fell to the ground. The kid gasped and rushed to his side.

“Hey! Ahjussi! Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he managed to squeak as pain spread through his back. He rubbed at his hips, and some mix of a laugh and a sob escaped his throat. “And I’m not an ahjussi!”

“You look kinda old,” the kid said back. Yonghoon for sure laughed this time.

“And just how old are _you?”_

“I’m seven!”

“A _baby.”_

“Am not!” The kid pouted and folded his arms over his chest in such an adorable way Yonghoon nearly scooped him into his arms right then and there. Of course, he didn’t, because unlike a certain kid standing in front of him, he had manners — that, and there were far more important things to be doing, such as asking:

“What are you doing here?”

“This is my secret base,” the kid said and stuck out his chest. “You’re an intruder!”

“Secret base, huh?”

The kid nodded.

“And you’re a bad guy! Actually, can bad guys look as cool as you?”

“You think I’m cool?” Yonghoon asked almost too eagerly — pathetic really. The kid nodded.

“Yeah! Are you in a boy group?”

“Do you really think an old geezer like me could be in a boy group?”

“Nope.”

Yonghoon huffed. Kids could be blunt, but this kid was on a whole ‘nother level. Yet try and be as offended as he might, the kid’s sparkling eyes and the whole way he held himself in a bounce swept his anger away. The kid held out a hand.

“I’m Dongmyeong! Be my friend, _please.”_

But the way he asked, er, more like demanded, with all sincerity of heart was just… endearing. Yonghoon looked at Dongmyeong’s hand carefully, not quite sure what he was doing, though with a smile.

“Didn’t your parents teach you not to talk with strangers?”

“Huh?” Dongmyeong looked genuinely confused. Yonghoon laughed, shaking his head, and Dongmyeong pouted again.

“Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not, I’m not,” he said. He definitely was laughing at him though. Dongmyeong seemed to know this and narrowed his eyes.

“Be my friend, meanie!”

“You sure you want an old guy as mean as me as your friend?”

“Yeah!”

Yonghoon chuckled seeing Dongmyeong get worked up like this, though he probably shouldn’t have had so much fun teasing him. He took his hand and shook it.

“I’m Yonghoon. Nice to meet you, Dongmyeongie.”

Dongmyeong grinned, any trace of the pout lost. As soon as their new “friendship” was sealed, Dongmyeong tried to pull Yonghoon to his feet, and Yonghoon couldn’t help but laugh again. He quickly got up and thanked Dongmyeong for his heroic efforts, and the child perked his chin, proud.

Dongmyeong practically glued himself to Yonghoon as he got the broom and started cleaning up the mess that Dongmyeong himself had probably made, though something told him he wasn’t usually alone in the house.

“Do you play here by yourself often?”

“Nope,” Dongmyeong chirped. “My friend Giwookie plays with me, and Harinie-hyung and Hyungu-hyung come here too.”

“Ah, I see,” Yonghoon said, dumping the chips into the trash can, “and your best friend is?”

“My brother! But he’s hurt right now so he can’t play.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. My grandma says he’ll be okay but we just have to wait.” He pouted. “It’s taking forever though…”

Poor kid… both Dongmyeong and his brother. It was admirable how cheerful Dongmyeong was in spite of the circumstances, but perhaps it also explained why he had been so eager to become friends with Yonghoon. Then again, he wouldn’t know. Things here were already very different from the city.

With the mess cleaned and the rest of Yonghoon’s stuff being delivered, there wasn’t much else to do except get out the pillows again and wait around. Dongmyeong seemed more than content to run around the house with some figurines he’d fished out the closet, and maybe every now and then pester Yonghoon with random questions. It was fun watching him come up with a new bad guy to fight, a new person to save, and it was then Yonghoon really wished he had his guitar, not to play anything in particular, but just to strum along. (Hopefully Youngjo had packed his guitar — he didn’t have the heart to kill him if he didn’t.) 

Eventually, though, Dongmyeong grew bored of playing by himself, and pulled out some Beyblades, complete with an arena, and, with a single puppy-eyed look, dragged Yonghoon into happily playing along with him. It didn’t take long for that to get boring either though, and both their grumbling stomachs said it was definitely time for something else.

“Have you eaten anything other than chips?”

“No…” Dongmyeong mumbled. Yonghoon sighed.

“You can’t _just_ eat chips for breakfast.” Which was ironic coming from him since he too had, many times, just eaten chips for a meal, especially in the days leading up to, well, today. Dongmyeong pouted.

“Not my fault. Harinie didn’t bring anything else since he said he was busy.”

“Ah, I’m sorry,” Yonghoon said. Those other guys must have usually taken care of Dongmyeong, seeing as how his grandma was probably taking care of his brother. His heart throbbed. He didn’t have anything to cook right now either — after all, he’d just got here. Maybe…

“Do you guys have a convenience store?”

“Yeah! Hyungu-hyung’s grandma owns it.”

“Then let’s go,” Yonghoon said. Dongmyeong nodded and took Yonghoon’s hand as they got out of the house and locked the door behind him. He looked up at Yonghoon expectantly.

“Are we going?”

“Y-yeah!” Though he very quickly realized he had no idea where this store was. Dongmyeong laughed.

“You don’t know where it is, do ya?”

“Don’t laugh at me, I just got here!”

Which only made Dongmyeong laugh even harder as he slipped away from Yonghoon’s hand and sprinted out in front of him, arms out like a star.

“Follow me! I’ll lead the way!”

“Do you like music?”

It was a sudden question from Dongmyeong, though Yonghoon should have been used to it at this point. He smiled and nodded.

“Yes, I do. Why do you ask?”

“You look like a boy group boy.”

“I thought you said I look too old to be in a boy group!”

“Not anymore,” Dongmyeong said as if it made any sense. He tugged on Yonghoon’s shirt. “But are you in a boy group?”

“No no, not a boy group,” Yonghoon laughed. “I sing by myself, but I have a lot of people help me make the songs too.”

Dongmyeong made an inaudible “oh” as he nodded, and the little gears in his head processed the information.

“Are you famous?”

“Not quite yet,” Yonghoon said, though he recalled using Youngjo as a meatshield against the cameras and the fans at the port, perhaps a little bit as payback. Another little lie he hoped Dongmyeong wouldn’t catch onto, and this time it seemed he didn’t. Dongmyeong nodded again, and with that, his curiosity seemed satisfied.

They were at the stretch of road that ran along the ocean view when Dongmyeong caught sight of a guy carrying a kid on his back, walking ahead of them. He perked up and ran to them.

“Harinie! Giwookie!”

They turned around, and the guy knelt down as the kid jumped off his shoulders with a bowl in hand.

“Myeongie! Didn’t expect to see you here!” he said with a laugh. He stood up as soon as Yonghoon caught up to Dongmyeong, a wide grin wrinkling his eyes into crescents. “Who’s your friend?”

“Um… ahjussi.”

“I’m not-” Yonghoon sighed as the guy’s low but sweet laugh bellowed out.

“Sorry, where are my manners?” The guy turned to Yonghoon and bowed his head. “I’m Harin, nice to meet you.”

“Yonghoon,” he replied, bowing in return. “Please, call me _hyung.”_ He paused. “You _are_ younger than me right?”

“That hung up over Dongmyeong’s name-calling, huh?” Harin chuckled again, and Yonghoon couldn’t help but laugh along with him. “Yeah, I’m in high school, _hyung._ It’s perfect we met. Wookie, wanna hand me the bowl?”

The other kid, Giwook, looked from Dongmyeong rambling his story, up to Harin and lifted the bowl of something into Harin’s hands. He thanked the kid, before handing it to Yonghoon.

“Here. Dinner.”

“Oh, I couldn’t,” Yonghoon said, shaking his hand. Harin pushed it into him.

“No, my mom insists. Besides, if you don’t want it, you could always give it to Myeongie. He loves her bibimbap.”

“It’s bibimbap?” Yonghoon peeked into the plastic wrap over it, saw the egg, the vegetables, the meat, and smiled. “Oh my, you’re too kind.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re our guest! Of course we gotta feed you!”

Suddenly Dongmyeong and Giwook both were at Yonghoon’s side, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

“Is that Harin’s mom’s stuff?”

“Yeah,” Yonghoon said, “Do you want it?”

Dongmyeong nodded so quickly Yonghoon thought his head would fall off. Yonghoon lifted the bowl out of his reach, though, as he tried to grab it.

“Not now,” he laughed, seeing Dongmyeong pout, “let’s wait until we get back to the base, alright?”

“Okay…” Dongmyeong whined. He grabbed Giwook’s hand, and the latter glared at him. “Can Giwook come too?”

“Of course,” Yonghoon said as he patted his back. “Harin, you can come along too if you want.”

“Ah, I’d love to, but I can’t,” he replied with a shake of his head. “Helping move the stuff from the port today, y’know?”

“That wouldn’t happen to be my stuff, would it?”

“Exactamundo,” Harin said. Yonghoon’s eyes widened.

“You wouldn’t have happened to see a guitar case there, would you?”

“Hmm, can’t remember,” Harin said. He scratched his head. “Wookie, did you see a guitar at the port?”

Giwook shrugged. Yonghoon must have had a pitiful look on his face, as Harin patted him on the shoulder and gave it a good squeeze.

“Hey, if I see it, I’ll bring it to you ASAP. Be careful with those two, they can be a handful.”

“Thanks.”

Harin nodded and walked away with a hand waving goodbye.

“See you around. Enjoy your stay!”

They waved goodbye to Harin before peeking into the bowl. Harin’s mother had packed spoons with the bibimbap as well, and, with not only Dongmyeong’s, but Giwook’s growling stomach too, they decided to sit at a bench alongside the road, and dig in. Yonghoon watched, staving off the headache from his hunger while the kids took turns scooping spoonfuls of rice, egg, and meat into their mouths, and pointedly left the vegetables alone at the sides. He laughed. There was nothing more classic than a kid and their hatred toward vegetables, now was there?

From the bench, a full view of the port could be seen, stretched out toward the ocean, but it wasn’t the ocean he was looking at. Yonghoon kept his eyes on a particular ship being unloaded and searched through the almost imperceptible shapes for the long, black case that held his guitar.

“Don’t you think ahjussi’s making a funny face?”

“I’m-” Yonghoon turned around to find Dongmyeong and Giwook snickering, mouths speckled with rice and perhaps a bit of yolk and sauce. He sighed and patted his pockets for a tissue or another. Unfortunately, he didn’t have any — expected since he didn’t normally carry them either. He sighed again.

“Alright you two, let’s head to the convenience store and get you cleaned up, alright?”

“Okay!”

“And please, call me _hyung.”_

The kids giggled again as they said “okay,” the kind of okay that meant there were no promises made. Yonghoon held out his hands for them to take, but Giwook only pouted.

“Is something wrong?”

“Oh yeah, Giwook doesn’t like walking,” Dongmyeong said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You should carry him.”

“Does he even like me?”

“Giwook, do you want hyung to carry you?”

Giwook nodded and his pout disappeared. Dongmyeong smiled.

“See? He likes you already!”

“If you say so,” Yonghoon said, bending down. Giwook clambered up his back, perhaps smearing a bit of the leftover bibimbap against his hair (cute, but also, gross…) before Yonghoon straightened back up.

“Alright, then,” Yonghoon said as Giwook wrapped his arms around his neck. It was a little choking, but it was alright. He looked at Dongmyeong raising an eyebrow.

“Lead the way, captain.”

As it turned out, carrying a seven-year-old was a lot harder than he thought, but Harin had made it seem so easy! It wasn’t fair some teen was stronger than he was — but then again, he’d spent most of his days sitting in the studio, and his diet was… well, not necessarily the best for building muscle. The bleach-blond teenager sitting behind the dark, wooden counter laughed as Yonghoon stumbled in and practically collapsed onto his knees.

“Don’t laugh at me…”

“Ah, my apologies,” the teenager said, obviously trying to stifle a smile. “Myeongie, put Harin’s bowl on the counter for me, please. And don’t touch anything. You’re a mess.”

“I am not a mess!” Dongmyeong said, pouting as he set the bowl on the place the teen had indicated. He shook his head.

“Guess you came for tissues, huh?”

“Yup.”

“Here, take some of these,” the teen said, and passed over a box of wet wipes. Yonghoon thanked him and called the kids back to him to clean them. They looked like they were about to bolt, but a glare from the teen set them in order, and soon all traces of bibimbap were gone from their squishy little cheeks. He smiled.

“Thank you…”

“Hyungu,” he replied with a slight bow. He opened up the book he had set down on his counter.

“Well, thank you Hyungu.”

“Don’t mention it.”

The convenience store turned out to be just another musky hanok — the only way Yonghoon would’ve known it was a store was by all the signs in the window, and, of course, by Dongmyeong’s guidance. All the rooms had been consolidated into one, the shelves lined the wall, stocked full of everything that could be found in any other convenience store back in the city. Just a little more behind Hyungu, however, sat the tip of what looked like a guitar case…

“So, you gonna buy something?”

“Dongmyeong, Giwook.” The kids turned to him. “Go find something you like, and bring something for me too, alright?”

They nodded, and Dongmyeong saluted before they scurried into the aisles, leaving Yonghoon alone with Hyungu. Hyungu leaned back on his chair and resumed his book.

“You can go look too if you want.”

“Well, I couldn’t help but notice the guitar sitting behind you.”

“What about it?” Hyungu said as he turned a page.

“Do you play?”

“A little.”

“Can I see?”

Hyungu glanced up and sighed, putting a bookmark in the page before he set it aside and pulled the guitar from the case.

“Don’t expect too much from me.”

“Do whatever you’re comfortable with.”

The teenager looked away as he began to strum simple chords and simple tunes on the strings of the guitar, not singing, but humming along to some familiar melodies, and Yonghoon couldn’t help but harmonize along. Hyungu stopped.

“You’re messing me up.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Still,” Hyungu said, as he started up again. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t.”

Dongmyeong and Giwook came back from their search with some triangle kimbap and candy in hand. Dongmyeong’s eyes sparkled as he bounced up to the counter.

“Hyungu-hyung! Play the one song!”

“Which one?”

“The one you wrote."

“You write songs?” Yonghoon asked as he felt a smile tug on his lips. Hyungu kept looking away.

“Maybe.”

“He’s really good at it too,” Dongmyeong said. “Hyungu, pleeeeease?”

Hyungu glanced between him and Giwook, and when Giwook nodded, he sighed.

“Since you asked,” he muttered, shaking his head. He looked at Yonghoon. “Don’t judge.”

“I won’t.”

Hyungu pursed his lips, and his fingers moved to find the right key. Then, he began.

He mumbled out the lyrics as his fingers plucked at the strings. The words sang of stars against a simple yet fanciful melody, powerful in just how much heart Hyungu put into each note, each syllable. With just a bit more polish, it’d easily pass evaluations, perhaps even be released as a title track. Yonghoon listened in awe.

“Isn’t he good?”

“Hush, Myeongie,” Hyungu said, setting the guitar back in its case. Yonghoon grinned.

“He is really good,” Yonghoon said to Dongmyeong. He turned to look at Hyungu. “I liked it.”

“It’s just a pastime, nothing else,” Hyungu said, though his ears were obviously turning very very red. “Myeongie, Wookie, you wanna give those to me?”

The kids smiled, nodded, and stood on their tip-toes to slide the goods onto the counter. Yonghoon gestured for them to stand down, and took the goods from them and put them on the counter for them, smiling as Dongmyeong and Giwook both said “thank you.”

“Of course, of course,” Yonghoon said. It didn’t register until later that that was perhaps the first time he had actually heard Giwook speak.

“Hyungu!” Dongmyeong called. Hyungu looked up from scanning the items, and Dongmyeong smiled, having successfully grabbed his attention. “Hyung here makes music too! You should talk to him!”

“Right.” Hyungu sighed and turned to Yonghoon. “You really do make music?”

“Yup,” Yonghoon replied. “As a soloist.”

“Then what’re you doing chasing these rascals around?” Hyungu asked, tilting his head over to Dongmyeong and Giwook playing hide-and-seek in the aisles. “Shouldn’t you be back at the city… making music?”

“About that…” Yonghoon said, “can I borrow your guitar?”

“No,” Hyungu replied quickly and flatly. “Didn’t you pack one?”

“I don’t know.”

“What?”

“I might be here on paid leave.” Yonghoon pinched his fingers. “And… um… my manager might have taken away all my music stuff.”

“You must be really bad at your job then.”

“Yeah, pathetic, aren’t I?” Yonghoon laughed. Something in Hyungu’s eyes hardened.

“A little.”

The kids might have been laughing as they played with each other, but something cold settled in the air. Hyungu held out the bags.

“And here’s your stuff,” Hyungu said, and Yonghoon gladly, but nervously, took the bags.

“Thanks.”

“Hyung!” Dongmyeong cried. “Wanna go out and see our super-secret sunset-watching spot?”

Yonghoon smiled as he took Dongmyeong’s hand.

“I’d love to.” Another glance back at Hyungu saw some redness peeking out his ears. He turned to Giwook. “Giwook, do you wanna come?”

Giwook shook his head, almost too vigorously. Right, the kid didn’t like walking, and from the sound of it, getting to the spot required a lot of it.

“I’ll watch over him, don’t worry,” Hyungu said. “Have fun with Myeongie.”

“Thank you, and will do,” Yonghoon said. He fished out the earth jellies Giwook had chosen and gave them to him, much to Hyungu’s mock(?) disapproval. Then, he turned to Dongmyeong, who grinned, and with their hands together, they were off.

Yonghoon quickly munched on the triangle kimbap before Dongmyeong led him from the main, paved road, to one of the many dirt paths zig-zagging the sides of the island. The path led through more than enough thick foliage to last a lifetime, and in the evening, the air began to be more than a little chilling. Dongmyeong didn’t seem to mind, though, and kept dragging him further and further down the path.

“We’re almost there, I promise!” he said. Yonghoon hoped so — he must have gotten more than a dozen bug bites at this point.

The path began to wind down into open air as they neared the coast. The ocean waves crashed against the sides of the rock, and sprayed them in icy, salty water. Yonghoon yelped as it hit, but Dongmyeong only laughed. He knew kids were indestructible to some degree — but this was perhaps a little too much. And the path only dipped deeper down, closer to the ocean as they went along. Yonghoon nearly lost his footing with the water on the rock, much to Dongmyeong’s panic. He steadied himself on the railing.

“I’m okay. Don’t worry.”

Dongmyeong nodded, but his brows stayed knit.

They stopped at a gaping hole in the rock, a pinprick of light visible at the edge. Dongmyeong tugged on Yonghoon’s sleeve.

“Do you have a flashlight?”

“If my phone hasn’t died,” Yonghoon muttered, fishing his phone from his drenched pockets. Fortunately, the water hadn’t seemed to seep in too much, and he was able to turn on the flashlight. Dongmyeong smiled.

“Thanks, hyung.”

“Of course,” he said, and he locked the soft tone of those words deep within his heart.

There wasn’t much need for a flashlight in all reality, but Dongmyeong insisted on keeping it turned toward the ground. Poor kid must have been scared of the dark, and the light at the end of the tunnel didn’t stretch all the way through it. Yonghoon clasped his hand tighter, and something seemed to lift off Dongmyeong’s shoulders.

They eventually reached the end, and came out on an outcropping several meters above the water’s edge. Dongmyeong turned to Yonghoon with a grin.

“Ta-da! We’re here!” He pointed toward the horizon. “And just in time too!”

Yonghoon turned to look at the sky. The clouds he had seen earlier had miraculously parted, and left the sun alone along the ocean’s end to lower itself into slumber. A brilliant gold painted the sky, and the waves caught the light and glittered in return. Against the cold brine, the warmth of the sight was melting.

“Isn’t it so cool?”

Yonghoon felt a smile on his lips.

“Yeah. Thank you.”

Dongmyeong’s grin widened, and he reached into the grocery bags and pulled out the fruit candies he had picked out earlier.

“I always eat these with Dongju when we come here.” He held out a piece of candy to Yonghoon. “Wanna have some?”

Yonghoon took the candy from his hand and chuckled.

“That’s really nice. Thank you again.”

“You’re welcome, hyung.”

They quickly turned back when the sun all but disappeared, Yonghoon not wanting Dongmyeong’s grandmother to worry. That, and his stuff should have arrived by now, and more than wanting his guitar, he wanted it all unpacked and in order before he stayed up too late again.

Up the trail and back up the main road, the whole town was empty until they hit the road immediately preceding his house. It seemed everyone was gathered here, his cases already lined on the porch as they all stood around and chatted. He briefly caught Harin and Hyungu together before they vanished into the house, and Dongmyeong demanded his attention.

“Hyung! This is my grandma!”

“Ah, hello, halmeonim,” Yoonghoon sputtered out with a smiling bow. The elderly woman chuckled, and smiled.

“What a lovely young man,” she said, her voice a smooth drawl. “Thank you for taking care of my Dongmyeongie.”

“Of course, my pleasure.”

Giwook suddenly pulled on Dongmyeong’s arm, and the two went to play around what was once their secret base, leaving Yonghoon alone with Dongmyeong’s grandmother. She chuckled again as they watched them.

“I’m glad he’s found someone to keep him company.” She sighed. “It’s been hard since Dongju got hurt, especially for Dongmyeong, the poor child. He’s always had his brother at his side, you know.”

“Really?”

“Twins,” she added with a hum.

“I see,” Yonghoon said, nodding. “Is Dongju alright?”

“He’s resting right now, the nurses take good care of him.”

“Ah, I’m glad.”

“Have you eaten?”

“Yes, I have” Yonghoon said with another smile and a bow, “Thank you.”

“Oh, no, thank you again. If you need anything, please let me know. It’s the least I can do to repay you.”

“There’s no need,” Yonghoon said. He meant it. She was probably already stressed with taking care of both of them, Dongju especially — it wouldn’t be fair for him to ask her for favors. She took his words, smiled, and nodded.

“What a wonderful young man.”

“Hey, Yonghoon-hyung!” Yonghoon turned from Dongmyeong’s grandmother to the sound of his name, and saw Harin carrying something in his arms, Hyungu followed close behind. Wait… was that?

“My guitar!”

“Woah, slow down there,” Harin laughed as Yonghoon dashed to him. “Tried to bring it to you earlier, but Hyungu said you were at the spot.”

Yonghoon turned to Hyungu, who shrugged.

“Saved him the walk.”

“Thanks, Hyungu,” Yonghoon said as he smiled. Hyungu turned away.

“How’d you like it though?” Harin started again, “The sunset, I mean.”

“It was nice. Cold, wet, but nice.”

“Hyung!” Dongmyeong and Giwook ran up to him. “Is that your guitar?”

“Sure looks like it,” Yonghoon laughed, and rubbed Dongmyeong’s head. Dongmyeong slapped his hand away, perhaps the first (and probably not the last) time he had rejected a gesture of his. He reached for the case, which Harin readily handed him, and took out the guitar before sitting down on the porch. Harin raised an eyebrow.

“What’re you playing?”

“Ah, we’ll see what comes out,” Yonghoon said, and his fingers strummed the first chord, a familiar one, the song that had led him to break out in the scene. Like that, he had drawn Dongmyeong, Giwook, and even Hyungu’s attention, all their eyes on him as he held the guitar on his knees and began running his fingers over the strings.

_Don’t cry anymore._

_Don’t feel tired anymore._

Simple words, nostalgic ones, yet the only words he could think of seeing their eyes, Dongmyeong’s eyes, his grandmother’s eyes. He hoped they would touch in a way they hadn’t in him for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation of Gift from: https://youtu.be/ZKeMH-_2pn4


	2. Chapter 2

Like Yonghoon had said (or rather, told himself), nothing was going to stop him from perfecting his music these next few weeks — not even creative block, not even missing his computer, not even being stuck on an island in the middle of the ocean. At least the being-stuck-on-the-island part was looking a little more enjoyable thanks to a little brat named Son Dongmyeong. He meant it endearingly. The other islanders probably thought the same thing. (Or maybe not. After all, he had only been here for a day.) But! Not even a little kid constantly begging him for attention that he  _ very much wanted to give _ could stop him. He had work to do, vacation or not, and by god he was going to do it.

But first, he had to get a notebook and some pens, because Youngjo, in his infinite cunning, had “forgotten” to pack those for him too.

Yonghoon walked into the convenience store, but instead of the shock blond of Hyungu behind the counter, there sat an old lady, hunched over, petting a… dog. He managed a smile as he bowed inside.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning, young man,” she said. The dog barked, and Yonghoon instinctively shrunk away. She seemed to notice. “Don’t worry. Gyukie doesn’t bite.”

“Of course, of course.”

This was probably the first time Yonghoon had actually taken time to look at the wares stacked around the shop. He’d gotten a good scan of the aisles earlier, but it wasn’t until now he had the chance to actually walk through them. There were candies and snacks just below the counter, butterfly nets sat in a barrel at the corner of the shop, and threads and strings lined the shelves just next to them. Perhaps this was where the office supplies were.

He was correct, and placed the notebook and pens on the counter before pulling out his wallet. The woman examined them with a frown.

“Is that all?”

“Yes,” Yonghoon hummed. Her frown deepened.

“You’re the young man living in the children’s house, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Hmm, you never know when those little tykes will come,” she mumbled, tapping the buttons on the register. “Are your shelves stocked?”

Now that he thought about it, he probably should’ve bought groceries. While Harin’s mom had provided dinner yesterday, there was no telling if she would again — besides, it was a little embarrassing for him, and, well, inconvenient for her if he were to rely on her cooking for all his meals. Since… since when had he forgotten about groceries? Nevermind that, he’d get them now.

“Ah, I see,” he replied. He waved. “I’ll be right back.”

He returned with a few bags of chips, a bag of the fruit candy Dongmyeong liked, as well as a few packs of mild ramyeon. The woman nodded as she again logged their prices in the register.

“Better.”

Yonghoon smiled, but his eyes kept darting to the dog. He knew she said it didn’t bite, but even then, he couldn’t help but feel extremely nervous under both her and her dog’s gaze.

“Would you like to pet her?”

“Ah, sorry, no,” Yonghoon laughed nervously as he took the bags. The woman nodded.

“You were just staring at her so nicely, I was sure you had fallen in love.”

“I’m afraid I only love music,” he replied. The woman nodded and chuckled, muttering something about Hyungu before they said their goodbyes, and with that, Yonghoon headed back to the house.

The weather was nice and sunny, though he really should have put on some sunscreen to save his complexion, even with the minimum amount of sun he planned on getting that day. Did he have sunscreen? He swore he remembered seeing it packed with his clothes, and it’s something Youngjo certainly wouldn’t have forgotten. Anyways, he was not heading back to the convenience store anytime soon — he’d rather face Hyungu and his manners than his grandmother and her dog.

By the time Yonghoon made it back to the house, he realized just how hungry he was. Good thing the old lady had told him to get some food — for once, he was actually looking forward to making something for himself, even if it was something as small as ramyeon. It reminded him of his college days, poor, stressed, making music. He smiled. While he wasn't so poor now, he was still stressed, but more importantly, he was still making music.

He froze. The door was left slightly ajar. Did he forget to lock it? He could’ve sworn he had locked it before leaving, so why was it open? Did someone break in? Yonghoon bit his lip, twirled the bag around in his wrist like a mini-flail, and opened the door.

Oh. It was just Dongmyeong.

Wait, Dongmyeong?

Yonghoon shook his head.

“What are you doing here?”

“Hyung!” Dongmyeong cheered as he practically pounced on him. Yonghoon laughed — whether out of relief or sheer incredulity, he couldn’t tell himself. The bag slipped out of his hands and somehow into Dongmyeong’s own, and he started to pull out the contents, one by one. His eyes widened at the candies.

“My favorite!”

Yonghoon smiled, and nodded.

“I know, Myeongie.”

“Can I have it?” Dongmyeong looked up at him with the cutest little puppy-eyes ever.

“Of course! I bought it just for you.”

Dongmyeong held the bag of candies to his chest and grinned before unceremoniously ripping it open. However, it was still quite early in the morning, and more concerning than how in the world he had gotten into the house, was the current state of his appetite. Yonghoon cleared his throat. 

“Have you eaten anything else?”

Dongmyeong looked up from chewing candies and nodded. In other words, no. Yonghoon sighed with a chuckle.

“Wanna give me the bag?”

Dongmyeong nodded and readily handed over the bag, for which Yonghoon thanked him before heading to the kitchen with the ramyeon in hand. While he had bought it for himself, it was only appropriate to share now. Ah, speaking of which-

“Don’t eat too much candy now! You’ll get a stomach ache if you do.”

He gave a dismissive “okay” and continued on with his candy rampage as he played with whatever toys he had dug out of the closet. Ah kids. If the rivalry with vegetables was one cliche, their love for sugar was another.

Yonghoon rushed back to the living room, steaming hot pan of ramen in hand and called for Dongmyeong to watch out as he set the pan down on the towel atop the tea table.

“Be careful, it’s hot. I’ll be right back.”

“I can see, dummy,” Dongmyeong said and pointed at the steam coming off the pan. He’d let that slide for now… and he quickly returned with chopsticks and cups of water in hand for the two of them. With the dish and utensils prepared, they dug in. Yonghoon was correct to have made ramyeon for all of them — from the way Dongmyeong ate, it really was like he hadn’t eaten breakfast and headed straight here.

“So how did you get in here?”

Dongmyeong smirked as well as any chubby-faced kid with ramyeon stuffed in his mouth could. Ah, it’d stay his secret then, wouldn’t it? Yonghoon was fine with that. All the more fun for him.

When the ramyeon was finished, the pan put in the sink, and Dongmyeong’s face all cleaned, Yonghoon finally had a chance to sit down, grab his guitar and shiny new notebook, and just think think think. His fingers absently picked at the strings as they looked for a melody, or at least a base rhythm for words.

“Hyung!” Dongmyeong sat himself at Yonghoon’s side. “What’re you doing?”

“I’m trying to write a song,” he said, playing a chord. Immediately, Dongmyeong perked up, and a grin spread wide over his crooked baby teeth.

“Like Hyungu-hyung?”

He chuckled, playing another.

“Like Hyungu, yeah.”

Dongmyeong nodded, and, contrary to Yonghoon’s expectations for a question, simply watched.

“Is something wrong?” he suddenly asked. Yonghoon shook his head.

“Nope, not at all.”

A huge lie, which Dongmyeong seemed to mull over, staring at his knuckles. His eyebrows furrowed.

“Are you nervous?”

“No,” Yonghoon laughed, “why would I be nervous?”

Dongmyeong shrugged.

“You’re shaking.”

Was he now? Was he sure he just hadn’t mistaken his fingers plucking the strings for flinching? Okay, yeah, maybe he was a little nervous… but it wasn’t because of anything Dongmyeong was doing. No, it was something different- deeper than just trying to satisfy a kid’s expectations. It felt like an itch at his chest, something nagging at the back of his mind — perhaps like something was collapsing within himself?

He looked at his hands. Yeah. He was definitely shaking. Dongmyeong pursed his lips.

“So are you going to play a song?”

“Maybe not.” Yonghoon set aside his guitar with a sigh, but still tried maintaining whatever easygoing smile Youngjo had often told him he had. Dongmyeong didn’t need to see… whatever it was. Yet try as he might, Dongmyeong still seemed to see right through him, and only knit his brow further in thought. Something sunk in his chest. He really hadn’t meant to burden anyone, much less, well, a child.

“Let’s go to the beach!” Dongmyeong suddenly cried, the previous dour mood all but swept away behind his grin. It was alarming just how quickly it happened, but before Yonghoon could even begin to laugh or decline, Dongmyeong was already out the door, and Yonghoon had no choice but to chase after him. After, of course, grabbing his wallet and locking the door.

Dongmyeong always kept himself just out of Yonghoon’s reach. His poor lungs could hardly take it — he hadn’t exercised so hard since he quit being a trainee years ago. The kid didn’t have any mercy either, and teased him every step of the way with a stuck out tongue and more than a handful of wiggly fingers. Yonghoon felt his eyes roll to the back of his head more than a few times as he chased him through the main road, past the port, and onto another dirt path much like the one from last night.

“Tada! Beach!”

Yonghoon threw his hands over his knees and just took a second- no, a minute to breathe. This was even worse than that moment right before he collapsed in front of the CEO’s office — was that… blood in his throat? No, no, nope! He wasn’t going to think about that! He raised his head, and there was Dongmyeong standing there, arms out like a star as was typical of him.

“You… little... rascal…”

“What, you’re not gonna catch me?” Dongmyeong asked, genuine concern tinting his voice as he walked to Yonghoon’s side and bent his head to meet his eyes. Yonghoon smiled and grabbed his arm.

“Gotcha.”

“Hey! Cheater!”

He should’ve felt bad — he really should have — but Dongmyeong complaining was just too good an opportunity for payback to pass up, even if he kept tugging his arm and hitting it in retaliation.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Yonghoon laughed. Dongmyeong pouted, but with a rub to his head (earning more swats again), it was lost in laughter. More loud than laughter, though, was the call of the ocean begging them to throw out their shoes, roll up their pant legs, and run straight into the waves — and that they did.

They taunted the sea, ran away as it licked the shoreline, splashed icy, salty water on each other, and perhaps once or twice almost got swept away. Yonghoon scooped Dongmyeong into his arms then, and when the fear melted away, they laughed.

“Let’s go back,” Yonghoon said, wringing out Dongmyeong’s shirt. “You’ll catch a cold if we stay.”

Dongmyeong didn’t complain, no matter how short their beach trip was, and he clung to Yonghoon’s side as they made their way back to the town.

The sun managed to dry them out quite a bit, surprisingly, by the time they realized how hungry they were. Conveniently, their route took them past Hyungu’s family store, and after a little bit of deliberation, they decided to grab a few snacks. Hyungu’s grandmother was still seated behind the counter, and still she sat there, petting her dog. Dongmyeong waved.

“Hi grandma!”

“Good afternoon to you too, you brat.”

It really wasn’t hard to see the family resemblance. Yonghoon stifled a laugh as he bowed.

“Good afternoon.”

“Back already, young man?” she said as she stroked her dog. Yonghoon nodded, smiling.

“Yes, I am.”

“Taking care of this rascal now, are we?”

“Yes.”

“Grandma!” Dongmyeong bounced up to the counter, arms full of candy. “Can you scan these for me?”

“Didn’t your hyung give you enough candy already?” she scolded and narrowed her eyes. Dongmyeong pouted before running back into the aisles. She shook her head.

“Kids. Always getting into trouble if you don’t reign ‘em in.”

“I see.” Yonghoon took another nervous glance at the dog. “I’ll go keep an eye on him then.”

“Good, good.”

Yonghoon quickly joined Dongmyeong in the snack aisle, snatching some triangle kimbap and a few more bowls of ramyeon on the way. In all actuality, he just wanted to get away from the dog, or was it the grandmother’s critical gaze? Anyway, it didn’t take long for Dongmyeong to put everything back (Yonghoon made sure), and Hyungu’s grandmother looked at their items approvingly as she logged them.

“Dongmyeong-ah, you haven’t been giving your hyung much trouble, have you?”

“Nope,” he chirped. “Can I pet Gyukie?”

“If you can reach,” she mumbled. Dongmyeong turned to Yonghoon, eyes wide and lips in a pout.

“Hyung, can you help me up?”

Yonghoon was completely planning on saying “no,” but one glance at Hyungu’s grandmother was enough to change his answer.

“Of course,” he said with a nervous smile. He lifted Dongmyeong up to the counter, totally expecting him just to pat the dog a few times — but  _ no, _ the kid picked up the small, white dog, grinning from ear to ear as he cradled it in his arms. Yonghoon stepped back from the counter and extended his arms out, setting Dongmyeong and the dog on the ground as far away as he could before turning to focus on the goods being bagged. However, try as he might, he could not stop Dongmyeong from nagging him.

“Hyung! Wanna pet Gyukie too?”

“N-no thanks,” he replied as he stared at the counter. Truth was, he, in a purely hypothetical sense, would love to pet the dog — but what if she bit him? Or scratched him? Or just did something that inexplicably would maul his hands or his entire body? Okay, maybe she wouldn’t do that — she was too small — but  _ still. _ Dongmyeong pursed his lips.

“She doesn’t bite.”

“I’ve heard.”

“She’s really soft.”

“She looks like it.”

“Are you scared?”

“No!” A blatant lie, and now Dongmyeong was laughing at him as Hyungu’s grandmother looked on, amused for the first time in their short interaction. Yonghoon bit his lip.

“She’s just a baby,” Dongmyeong said, rocking her back and forth. “Really! She’s not scary!”

The dog looked up at Yonghoon with wide, black eyes, perfectly round and cute and, most importantly,  _ clueless. _ She seemed harmless enough, he supposed, even if he didn’t know just what kind of vicious creature lay behind that absolutely  _ adorable _ facade. Tentatively, and very  _ very _ shakily, Yonghoon reached out his hand. Dongmyeong grinned.

“You can do it, hyung!”

Closer, closer,  _ closer… _

_ Floof! _

Gyukie really was soft. She stayed still as Yonghoon patted her head, then rubbed it, then scratched the scruff of her neck and just fell into some sort of sweet bliss feeling her small warmth against his hand. Just something about her — he didn’t know what — kept his fingers running through her hair and strangely enough he found he didn’t want to stop at all. Maybe a laugh escaped his chest — but Dongmyeong started laughing too.

“Told ya so!”

It was only after Yonghoon took his hands away she started barking, wagging her tail and looking at him in an expectant way he swore was like Dongmyeong. Hyungu’s grandmother clicked her tongue.

“Now now Gyukie, calm down,” she grumbled, but really, Yonghoon didn’t mind. Dongmyeong set her down on the ground, and like that, Gyukie bolted behind the counter, and back up the old woman’s lap. Hyungu’s grandmother grunted, satisfied, before handing Yonghoon the bags.

“Your money?”

“A-ah! Yeah! Of course,” he stammered. He could still feel Gyukie’s warmth, her softness tickling his fingertips, and a strange, bubbling feeling in his chest. Was this… could it be?

“Hyung is a scaredy cat!” Dongmyeong sang between the exchange, to which Hyungu’s grandmother glared.

“You could stand to learn a thing or two from him, rascal.” She handed Yonghoon his card. “Good luck with that one.”

“Thanks,” he laughed, shoving the card back into his wallet. There was no time to waste! This feeling could go away any moment, and he  _ needed _ to solidify it before it did. He grabbed Dongmyeong by the arm. “C’mon now, let’s go back.”

Inspiration was hard to come by — it was why it was important to learn to compose without it — but when it came, it came fast, hard, and fleeting. It was absolutely, positively  _ critical _ that he catch this moment, the first burst of light in what seemed like months.

“Hyung! Ow!”

Dongmyeong ripped his arm from Yonghoon’s grasp, a pout and knit brows on his face. Oh… He… he hadn’t been the gentlest, had he?

“Myeongie, so sorry…”

“It’s okay,” he mumbled. He tilted his head. “Is something wrong?”

The feeling couldn’t have been more right — yet it… it didn’t feel quite that way anymore. His chest fell as he watched Dongmyeong rub the spot he had grabbed, tinged slightly red and distinctly in the shape of his hand. He hadn’t meant to hurt him — guess he just got carried away. Is this what passion did?

Yonghoon knelt down, lifted his head up to meet Dongmyeong’s eyes.

“It’s only wrong now that you’re hurt. I’ll slow down now. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“You forgive me?”

Dongmyeong smiled and nodded, and that was enough to spread sunshine onto Yonghoon’s own lips. He stood up, chuckling, and held out his hand, and when Dongmyeong took it, they began again, walking this time, back to the house.

When they arrived, the inspiration was still there, miraculously. Perhaps it had been mellowed out, but the atmosphere certainly wasn’t as Dongmyeong raced to the closet and pulled out his toys. Yonghoon smiled and called him back to eat before resuming play, to which Dongmyeong swiped the triangle kimbap out of his hands and stuffed it in his mouth before heading back to running his cars and planes along the ground. It was funny, it was familiar — it reminded him of himself, back in the studio. He couldn’t laugh then, not with the rice in his mouth, but he smiled nevertheless as he slowly munched at the kimbap and wrote down the first words that came to mind.

_ Love me. _

He never thought he’d say that about a dog. Maybe that's why inspiration struck…

"Hey!" A knock on the door accompanied by Harin’s cheerful voice. "Hyung, dinner's here!"

"Do you really need to bring dinner to him all the time?” Hyungu asked. “He's a grown man for heaven's sake."

"Well what am I supposed to tell my mom? You know how she is."

"Just tell him you're cutting him off and then tell your mom he doesn't want it-"

"Hey," Yonghoon cooed as he opened the door. Hyungu quickly turned away, biting his lip as he rightly should have, to which Harin laughed.

"Hi hyung, whatever you heard, you didn't hear it."

"I see, I see," he replied with a smile. "But really, thank your mom for me. I really shouldn't be relying on you like this."

"Ah, don’t worry about it.” Harin elbowed Hyungu in the side, which only caused his ears to go red. “This guy’s just shy, that’s all.”

“Giwook!” Dongmyeong cried as Giwook peeked out from behind Hyungu. Giwook waved to Yonghoon before Dongmyeong practically tackled him back behind the two teenagers, then proceeded to drag him into the living room where he had just been doodling on some torn out pieces of notebook Yonghoon had given to him. Harin chuckled.

“Those kids… Myeongie’s not giving you a hard time, is he?”

“No, not at all,” Yonghoon laughed. Everyone seemed to ask him that question, but really, Dongmyeong hadn’t caused any problems at all. Was he really that much of a rapscallion and just not showing it? It didn’t seem so — the kid seemed pretty forward about everything.

“Right, dinner,” Harin said, holding out the bowl. Stew! Yonghoon took it and bowed.

“Thank you again.”

“Of course, of course.”

“Would you guys like to stay over?” Yonghoon asked. “I have ramyeon if this isn’t enough.”

“We’re-”

“That’d be nice, thanks.” Hyungu pursed his lips, though whether he was upset at being cut off or at the prospect of being the same space as Yonghoon was quite debatable, or maybe it was something else entirely. Yonghoon hoped they could be on good terms, or at the very least, he could make him feel welcome. He gestured into the room.

“Come in! Sit! I’ll be back.”

Harin nodded and plopped down on the ground next to where Dongmyeong and Giwook were playing, and Hyungu quickly followed after with a bow. Immediately, Giwook climbed onto his lap, holding up the picture he had drawn. The teens smiled and applauded him, and though his wide-eyed gaze didn’t change, he was obviously quite happy. The last thing Yonghoon saw before heading into the kitchen was Dongmyeong standing up to brag about his own drawing. How cute.

Yonghoon prepared the noodles, the bowls, and utensils, and with Hyungu and Harin gathering the kids and keeping them in check, the meal passed in relative peace. There was plenty of laughter too, though it mostly came from Dongmyeong, Harin, and himself. Hyungu mostly kept to himself, as did Giwook, but maybe it was good to have that balance.

Eventually, it came time for Harin and Hyungu to leave, and with them, the kids. Giwook readily took Hyungu’s hand, but Dongmyeong on the other hand…

“I wanna stay!”

“Myeongie, you know how worried your grandma gets,” Harin said. Dongmyeong pouted and huffed.

“But I wanna stay with hyung...”

“You’ve been playing with him all day, don’t you think he needs rest?”

They watched as Harin tried to talk Dongmyeong into leaving, a back and forth that only seemed to deepen some level of concern within Hyungu. His distant eyes sunk even further into some nagging pain, something Giwook sensed and tried to knock him out of with a tug. Yonghoon would’ve asked — but it wasn’t his place. Not right now, at least.

“Hyung, how do you feel?”

“Hm? Me?”

“Yeah,” Harin said, exasperation at the edge of his voice, “about Dongmyeong staying?”

Yonghoon smiled, though it was with effort, as he knelt down next to Dongmyeong like before, and sighed.

“Dongmyeong-ah. I love being with you, but you should go home. Your grandmother is waiting for you.”

Dongmyeong looked down. He didn’t want to leave, though why exactly, Yonghoon didn’t know. He could guess, but that wasn’t his place either. So he took his hands and looked into his eyes, smiling.

“You can come play with me tomorrow, okay?”

“And the day after that?”

“Yes, and the day after that one as well.” He squeezed his hands. “Does that sound good?”

Dongmyeong nodded, and with another squeeze of his hands, Yonghoon stood up, and rubbed his hair. He earned some swats in return, but it was the laughter that was most important as Harin and Hyungu, Dongmyeong and Giwook said their farewells and began making their way home. Yonghoon grinned, waving, and closing the door behind him.

Like a clingy puppy...


	3. Chapter 3

The days after then followed the same general pattern: Yonghoon would wake up, Dongmyeong would somehow make his way into the house without knocking, and they’d go to the convenience store to get food. Eventually, Yonghoon wised up enough to buy toast and eggs along with their usual kimbap so they could save themselves trips to the store, a choice Hyungu’s grandmother approved of.

Usually they’d pick up Giwook too, and off they would go on whatever adventure Dongmyeong had devised, whether to the beach, the nearby forest, or even the neighboring fields where the farmers worked during the day. After morning shenanigans and lunch at the convenience store, they’d go back to the house where Dongmyeong and Giwook would entertain themselves as Yonghoon tried to work on his songs. In the evenings, Harin and Hyungu would come by with food (no one could argue with Harin’s mother apparently), and Yonghoon would prepare the rice and side dishes — usually just some kimchi he had bought at the store.

And every night, Yonghoon would always promise Dongmyeong he’d be there the next day, and the day after, and the day after that one. He meant it, he really did, but he wondered what he’d do when it came time to go back to the city. Surely, he’d tell them. Yes, it would sting, but it would be like ripping off a bandaid, and soon after, he hoped to be forgotten.

Today, however, was odd, in that instead of being greeted by Hyungu’s grandmother that afternoon, Hyungu himself sat behind the counter, blond hair, book, and all. Yonghoon was sure he had a shocked expression on his own face, yet the only reaction out of Hyungu was a nonchalant, “Welcome.”

“Hi Hyungu-hyung!”

“Hi Myeongie, Wookie, Yonghoon-ssi.”

“Hello,” Yonghoon finally managed to say, but by then Dongmyeong and Giwook had already scampered into the aisles on a quest for food, or, more specifically, candy. Hyungu turned a page in his book.

“You can go look if you want.”

“I’d much prefer to talk to you though.”

Hyungu turned away from his book just to glare at him before turning back, wanting nothing to do with him. At least, that's what Yonghoon thought he wanted. He hadn't said anything wrong, had he? No matter, Yonghoon would just be friendly anyway, like by taking interest in his book.

“What are you reading?”

_ “The Fabric of the Cosmos.” _

Dense reading… Yonghoon leaned his elbow on the countertop.

“What’s it about?”

“Time, reality, things that are, things that  _ could’ve been...” _

“So like philosophy?”

He turned another page.

“A little.”

Few words, each weighed by something intangible. Perhaps Yonghoon was reading too much into this — he gestured to the guitar instead.

“How long have you been learning?”

“Hm?”

“Guitar.”

“Look.” Hyungu slammed his book shut. “I know what you are. You’re a big shot artist looking for some small-town sob-story to turn into your next song because life is too easy now you’re famous in the city and there’s no more heartbreak to fuel your writing. I am not falling for whatever charms you’re trying to put everyone under for their secrets. And if you  _ dare _ turn anyone’s suffering here into some sick little profit-making gig,  _ you will never see the light of day again.” _

Yonghoon stepped back. Hyungu’s eyes, piercing, turned back to the book he had forgotten to bookmark, yet he miraculously flipped back to the correct page as if nothing happened. The chill sat shrill against his chest still. Was this the same person who had, just days before, sang ballads for the kids? He watched, sinking, as Dongmyeong and Giwook approached the counter with goods in hand and slid them to the register.

“Payment?”

“A-a-ah, right,” Yonghoon managed to somehow choke out as he passed Hyungu his card. Within moments, it was back in his hand, along with the bags of candies and other snacks, and Hyungu went back to his book.

“Have a nice day.”

“You too, hyung!” Dongmyeong said, taking Yonghoon’s hand. Giwook looked from Hyungu to Yonghoon, the little gears in his head turning behind his strangely observant eyes, before climbing onto Yonghoon’s back. Yonghoon found the words stuck in his throat as they left.

The air was still frigid when they got back to the house. Giwook wouldn’t say (he never said much in the first place), but it was clear he was upset. Where he would normally just wince at Dongmyeong’s grip, he whined; where he would play with his blocks, he sat still, watching, staring at Yonghoon.

It was about the third time Dongmyeong tried nagging Giwook into playing with him that it dawned on him that something was wrong, and it’d take more than just an invitation to play to fix it. Dongmyeong whispered something in Giwook’s ear, and Giwook slowly began nodding along. They clasped each other’s hands and hurried into the closet, slamming the door behind them.

Just what could they be doing? Yonghoon crept over to the door and knocked.

“We’re having a secret meeting!” Dongmyeong hissed. Yonghoon raised an eyebrow.

“A secret meeting?”

“Yeah. No adults allowed!”

Oh kids… No matter how serious Dongmyeong had wanted to sound then, it still managed to get a laugh out of Yonghoon.

“If you say so.”

Still, his chest sunk. He… he should have been better. He knew exactly why Giwook was so upset, and while Yonghoon couldn’t resolve the problem immediately, he should’ve at least tried to explain to him- no, he couldn’t do that. How was he supposed to explain why Hyungu didn’t like him when he himself didn’t even know the reason? He couldn’t explain, but he could’ve at least tried soothing him, reassuring him.

Yonghoon sighed as he set his guitar on his lap again. If the kids were going to try and resolve this by themselves, he’d at least try and work. He hadn’t made much progress on  _ Love Me, _ but at least he was no longer frozen in his tracks like when he first came. His fingers picked at the strings, plain and simple. Not perfect by any means, but getting somewhere.

If only he could get somewhere with Hyungu… He had figured Hyungu was rather shy from the first day they’d met, but hostile? It didn’t seem likely without reason — yet, he hadn’t done anything to deserve Hyungu’s words, right? He wasn’t trying to befriend anyone to take advantage of them; if anything, his friendships here had mostly been thrust upon him.

Could it just be teen angst? It was likely, but there was something else that seemed to lie under the surface, a sense of protection, of… he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Dongmyeong and Giwook burst out of the closet with newfound toys and newfound energy. Giwook’s laugh, in particular, was shrill as he chased Dongmyeong with a jet — who knew he could be so loud? Suddenly, Dongmyeong reared his course straight toward Yonghoon, pointing at him with his own jet.

“Target spotted!”

“Target!”

And Yonghoon barely had enough time to set aside his guitar before Dongmyeong and Giwook flew into his face, laughing. Whatever dour mood that had settled before was washed away, though he could still feel it claw at the edges of the room.

Hyungu didn't come with Harin that night to dinner. Despite the jovial mood that had settled that afternoon, the strangeness of the sight — not just Hyungu’s absence, but Harin’s own confusion — sucked the air out of the room. Harin raised an eyebrow as Yonghoon greeted him inside.

"Did something happen?"

"Maybe," Yonghoon replied with a laughing sigh. He shook his head. "But don't worry. Sit down, sit down."

They had dinner as usual — tonight was stew again — but it felt odd without Hyungu there, even if he never said much. At least the kids didn’t seem to mind. Giwook, in particular, was a lot less upset than Yonghoon would’ve thought he’d be. He scooped food into his mouth as usual, even as he sat in Yonghoon’s lap instead of Hyungu’s.

When it came time to go, Yonghoon walked the three to the door, like normal. They said their farewells, but Harin stopped. He sucked his teeth.

“Hyung, are you sure it’s nothing?”

“Hm?”

“Hyungu. Not here. He wouldn’t come with me today.”

Well, yes, it was something. The words still stung — but given a day for tempers to die down, it’d be alright. It’d be alright, right?

“I’m sure. Just get home safely, alright?”

Harin looked him up and down, then nodded, doubtful.

“If you say so.”

They waved goodbye, with Dongmyeong and Giwook gathering around Harin as they made their way home, and Yonghoon closed the door behind them.

The next day started as usual. Dongmyeong appeared in the house, but this time with Giwook in tow. After a quick breakfast, they began planning what to do that morning, meaning, Dongmyeong would tell them, loudly, what he wanted to do, and Yonghoon and Giwook would either say no together, or acquiesce.

“Let’s play in the forest!”

Those words were enough to send shivers down Yonghoon’s spine. The forest was thick, wet, and most importantly, home to heaven knows how many bugs. Need he explain more? He laughed nervously.

“Ah, Dongmyeong, are you sure? Giwook’s scared of bugs, isn’t he?”

Which he knew for a fact after the kid had ran and cried to him while getting chased by a wasp. (Yonghoon hadn’t fared much better, but don’t tell anyone.) Dongmyeong pouted before turning to Giwook.

“Wookie, do you wanna play in the forest?”

And oddly enough, Giwook nodded. Great, there went Yonghoon’s only excuse that wouldn’t result in relentless teasing. He sighed, long and deeply.

“Fine. You lead the way.”

Dongmyeong grinned, and Giwook oddly, again, smiled along with him. Just what was going on between those two?

Yonghoon shook his head with another sigh as he grabbed his keys and locked the door behind them, and with that, he let Dongmyeong lead them into the forest.

The forest was, as expected, thick, wet, and filled with bugs. Giwook clung close to Yonghoon as Dongmyeong ran ahead to do… whatever it was on his mind. Hopefully it wasn’t catching beetles, like he did last time they went.

Yonghoon looked down at Giwook and patted his shoulder.

“You okay bud?”

Giwook looked up, clasped his hand tighter, and nodded. What a good kid. Still, just why had he agreed to go to the forest if he was so, well, scared?

“I FOUND THE STICK OF POWER!”

What the-?

Dongmyeong flew out of the foliage waving a  _ tree branch _ in front of him. Yonghoon slid between him and Giwook.

“Hey! Dongmyeong!” He held his arms in front of him — trying his best, and failing, to catch the branch between swings. “Stop!”

“Take that intruder!”

“I thought I was your friend!”

Yonghoon finally caught the branch. He yanked it from Dongmyeong’s grip and threw it aside — but before he could have a  _ nice chat _ with him, Dongmyeong had already ran away, squealing.

“Wookie, to the secret base!”

He whipped around. Giwook smiled, key in hand, and ran away after Dongmyeong.

Oh great.

By the time Yonghoon had stumbled out of the forest and back to the house, the kids were nowhere in sight — in other words, if their giggles were indication, they were already inside. Yonghoon sighed, marched up to the door, and knocked. They were just kids, they were just kids, they were just kids…

“No entry!”

“Why not?” Yonghoon cried out, incredulous. He could just hear Dongmyeong grinning on the other side.

“No adults allowed!”

“But I thought I was your friend.”

There was hushed, perhaps one-sided, discussions on that point. After a few seconds of deliberating, a small panel on the bottom of the wall flipped open, and Giwook soon crawled out. Yonghoon knelt in front of him as he shut the panel behind him.

“Are you gonna let me in?”

Giwook shook his head. Well, it was worth a shot.

“My trusty sidekick Giwook will lead you on your quest,” Dongmyeong said, to which Giwook glared at the door. “Good luck!”

“What the…”

No- don’t finish that sentence in front of the kids, especially Giwook. He was fine. There was no reason for him to be upset. Sure, Giwook might have stolen his keys, and Dongmyeong might have locked them out, but it was fine! Plus, just where had Dongmyeong learned those strange words? This was real life, not some cheesily-written serial publication preaching the values of friendship or what have you. Yonghoon sighed. Alas, this was his reality. Giwook tugged on his arm, and he knelt down to face him.

“Well, looks like we’re stuck together.”

No response.

“Are you gonna climb on?”

Giwook nodded and climbed onto his back. It was getting easier and easier to carry him by the day — maybe he’d have visible muscles by the time he got back to the city. (Or maybe not. His agency would probably make him lose it anyway.)

“Alright Wookie.” Yonghoon bucked Giwook up further on his back. “You lead the way.”

“I’m not a sidekick.”

W-what?

“Sorry, what was that?” Yonghoon asked. Giwook pouted.

“I’m not a sidekick. I’m Giwook.”

Warmth blossomed in Yonghoon’s chest as a silly grin spread over his lips. Giwook had spoken — he spoke! He really shouldn’t have been this happy, but he couldn’t help it.

Giwook patted his shoulder, eyes narrowed, and pointed.

“Go.”

“A-ah, of course,” Yonghoon stammered. He started walking out to the road, but paused. “Where are we going?”

“Hyungu.”

Yonghoon may have dragged his feet along the road toward the store, but Giwook prodded him ever forward. It wasn’t that he  _ didn’t _ want to talk to Hyungu, he just wasn’t sure if Hyungu wanted to talk to  _ him. _ Okay, sure, he didn’t know much about him, but generally, if you blew up at a stranger, you generally never wanted to see them again, right? Besides, even if Hyungu even considered him more than a stranger, who said he had calmed down by now? Wouldn’t Yonghoon just come off as, well, obnoxious?

“Giwook,” he began, “are you sure about this?”

Giwook nodded. Again, it was worth a shot, trying to get out of this. Yonghoon sighed.

“So who’s idea was this? Dongmyeong’s?”

“No.”

“Yours?”

No response, meaning yes. Yonghoon chuckled and shook his head. As frustrated as he was, it was kinda cute, having him of all people instigate an  _ intervention. _

“Do you think Hyungu’s still mad at me?”

“No,” Giwook replied, blunt, matter-of-fact in tone.

“Why do you think so?” Yonghoon asked. Giwook hugged a little tighter around his neck, and shrugged.

“Because you’re my friend.”

Plain and simple.

They entered the shop, greeted by the same musky smell and the same colorful wares as always, but something seemed abuzz. One look at the counter found Hyungu and Harin leaning on it, chatting about something, obviously troubled.

“Are you sure?” Hyungu asked as he ran his hands through his blond hair. Harin huffed, obviously a little frustrated, but still with enough patience to laugh.

“For the last time, hyung’s not gonna yell at you,” he said, “Just calm down.”

“But I yelled at him…”

“Ah, here we go again!”

Giwook slipped off Yonghoon’s back, grabbed his hand, and tugged him toward the counter. Harin perked up as they approached.

“Ah, hyung! Just the man we’re looking for.”

“Really?” Yonghoon laughed, trying to play off his nervousness as Harin set a sweaty palm on his shoulder. “Just finished your shift at the port?”

“Oh yeah, sorry ‘bout that.” Harin retracted his hand before turning to Giwook. “Good work buddy.”

Giwook smiled and gave Harin a high five. Oh, so he was in on this too? Yonghoon glanced behind the counter — Hyungu seemed just as surprised as him, though he turned away and fixed his gaze on the counter.

“Right, now,” Harin began as he and Giwook headed toward the door. “You two stay here and talk until you figure everything out, alright?”

“W-wait,” Yonghoon laughed nervously, “and where are you going?”

“To get a spare key, of course,” Harin replied with a wink. “Have fun, you two.”

And with that, Harin and Giwook left them, alone, in the store to try and mount whatever tension had settled between them. Yonghoon turned to Hyungu, who still wouldn’t meet his gaze. He bit his lip.

“So… have you eaten?”

“No,” Hyungu mumbled, sliding a book towards himself.

“Do you want me to buy you something?”

“No,” he spat out, “my grandma’s bringing me something.”

The bell over the door rang. Yonghoon stepped aside to let whoever it was through, and speak of the devil, it was Hyungu’s grandmother. He forced a smile and bowed.

"Hello."

"Afternoon, young man," she said as she passed, though instead of Gyukie in her arms, there was a bowl of food. She examined him, head to toe. "The brats finally get the best of you?"

"Ah, maybe," he laughed, because they definitely had, and he wouldn’t be here without them if they hadn’t. She clicked her tongue.

“They all do some day or another, isn’t that right, Hyungu-ya?”

The tips of Hyungu’s ears turned red, and he kept his eyes on the counter, not even looking up at his grandmother as she shuffled up to the counter and placed the bowl next to him.

"Your hyung does music too, you know? You could learn a thing or two from him.”

“I know.”

“Treat him well, alright?”

Hyungu didn’t say anything as his grandmother waved to Yonghoon and left, both them alone, and the air between them with a certain sting. His hand that reached for the book fell into his lap, his thumb ran over what seemed to be calluses on his fingers.

Still, he would not look up. But like this, he seemed so small, so fragile. He wasn’t an icicle at Yonghoon’s throat. No, he was cracked ice over a lake, threatening to break with just one more, misplaced step — a step his grandmother had taken, as his neck turned red with heat, guilt, pain.

“Hey,” Yonghoon began, though he didn’t take a step forward. “You don’t have to feel bad about this all.”

“No, I- it’s not that,” Hyungu stammered. “It’s not you, it’s…”

“Breathe, it’s okay,” he said, holding a hand out. Hyungu nodded, did as he was told, took a deep breath in and a deep breath out, and some of the redness went away as he did. Yonghoon smiled. “Just been having a rough time?”

“I mean, I guess,” Hyungu said with a shrug. “Still, doesn’t make what I said any better.”

“You’re alright, I’m used to it,” Yonghoon replied. Hyungu really was a good boy at heart, probably a boy who took too much responsibility upon himself. If it was lifted, just a bit, just how much would he bloom?

Yonghoon pointed at the guitar sitting behind him.

“So, music?”

“W-what?”

“You wanna play something?”

“You’re not gonna scold me?” Hyungu asked as his eyes darted back and forth, scanning Yonghoon’s face for… something. Yonghoon shook his head, smiling.

“I mean, what am I gonna get mad at you for? Being an angsty teenager?”

_ “Hey.” _

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” he laughed. “But really, I’m not mad. Let’s just lighten the mood, do something you like, yeah?”

“You’re almost too good to be true,” Hyungu muttered as he took the guitar from his case.

“Aw, thank you.”

“It’s not a compliment.” Though something in Yonghoon told him he meant it, at least partially. Yonghoon chuckled, finally taking a step toward the counter if not to just lean on it as Hyungu adjusted the guitar on his lap. Hyungu narrowed his eyes. “What’re you looking at me like that for?”

“I’m excited.”

“Well don’t be.”

He strummed a chord and cleared his throat, but when his voice came out cracked, he muttered to himself and pulled a notebook from under the counter instead. It slid toward Yonghoon, words annotated next to notes.

“Um, those are the lyrics if you wanna sing.”

_ “Regulus?” _ Yonghoon asked as he scanned the lyrics. They seemed familiar, and reading the notes, it seemed like the same song Hyungu had sang when he first came. Hyungu nodded.

“I’m ready when you are.”

Yonghoon nodded — right, vocals had started this song. He cleared his throat, and read along to the notes.

_ The name of the star I live in _

_ is called Regulus. _

_ It may be dark every day, _

_ I’m not lonely. _

Even more clearly than before, the love, the talent within the lyrics and the chords were apparent, and Yonghoon wanted nothing more than to take Hyungu to Geonhak, to Seoho and have them polish it, to show the world the treasure buried within a small, remote island.

The song ended on an unfinished scale, perfect, longing. Hyungu looked up from the guitar, his brow furrowed and eyes nervously awaiting a verdict. He seemed small then, unlike the prickly young man Yonghoon had grown accustomed to. Like the others, he really was just a kid at heart.

Yonghoon nodded.

“This is beautiful.”

“You think?” His voice nearly squeaked, surprised. Yonghoon nodded again.

“You’ve got talent, yeah. Are you thinking about doing music for a career?”

“Maybe… I mean, I dunno.”

“I think you could make it.” Yonghoon genuinely meant it, though Hyungu seemed to doubt him. He met his eyes. “Your lyrics are wonderful, and your guitar’s a lot better than some in-house producers we have. Better than mine anyway.”

“Really?”

“Really. All that’d be left is to find an agency to pick you up and start producing.”

Hyungu bit his lip and nodded. The words mulled over in his head — his eyes flickered as if receiving a premonition, but it went as quickly as it came. He shook his head, and sighed.

“Thanks, but I don’t think I could.”

There was something else, the same thing that caused him to ice over, to break, that held him back then. As much as Yonghoon wanted to know what it was, it still wasn’t his place to pry, at least not now. He nodded.

“I see.”

Silence. Yonghoon bit his lip again before turning to Hyungu.

“So, you coming for dinner tonight?”

“You’d still let me?”

“Of course,” Yonghoon chirped as he straightened up. “We missed you last night, especially Giwook. He was upset all day after, well, you know.”

“Giwook..?” Hyungu’s eyes narrowed. The pieces seemed to come together as he scoffed, then smiled, then genuinely laughed, shaking his head. “So it was him!”

“I know, right?” Yonghoon exclaimed. “I still can’t believe this was his idea.”

Hyungu raised his eyebrows and shook his head again.

“Sometimes I wonder what goes on inside his head.”

“Right?”

They laughed, together for once. This wasn’t the perfect start, but it was a start, and they were getting somewhere at least. They chatted a bit longer before Hyungu brought Yonghoon’s attention to the time and the kids’ — actually, just Dongmyeong’s — lack of patience and practically shooed him out of the shop. Yonghoon laughed and waved goodbye. Hyungu rolled his eyes.

“I’ll see you again later.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t miss you now.”

“Just go!” he said, laughing through the faux-irritation, and Yonghoon couldn’t help but grin as he began to make his way back to the base.

“Ah, hyung, you’re back!” Harin said when he answered the door. Yonghoon nodded.

“Yes, I am.”

“And Hyungu?”

“Still on his shift.”

“Gotcha,” Harin replied. He stepped aside and gestured toward the room. “Well, welcome back to base!”

“Thanks,” Yonghoon said with a smile. He shook his head though, seeing the living room empty of kids. “Now where is everybody…”

Giggling behind the closet, and a grinning Harin confirmed Yonghoon’s suspicions, and he walked up and yanked the door open. Dongmyeong and Giwook squealed.

“I found you rascals!”

“Run!” Dongmyeong cried, and he and Giwook ducked under Yonghoon’s arms, laughing and screaming as they disappeared to other hiding places around the house. Yonghoon huffed and shook his head. Those kids…

“So,” Harin hummed as he sat down at the tea table, “how’d it go?”

“It was good, good,” Yonghoon replied, taking his own place.

“I’m glad,” he said with a sigh. “Seriously though, you could’ve just told me Hyungu chewed you out and we would’ve gotten it solved without all this hassle.”

“Funny you say that now that it’s all happened,” Yonghoon laughed. Harin held up his hands.

“What can I say, I was bored.”

“Glad to have relieved it somewhat.”

“So you’re not mad at me?”

“Mm, maybe a little.”

Harin grinned and folded his arms.

“I’ll take that.”

“Hyuuuuuung,” Dongmyeong whined as he came from what seemed like the kitchen and tugged on Yonghoon’s shirt. “Stop talking and play hide and seek with us!”

“Okay, now you, young man,” Yonghoon said as he pulled Dongmyeong into his lap. Dongmyeong yelped and thrashed around, but laughed all the same. “Didn’t anyone teach you not to wave sticks at people?”

“Mmm, no.”

“You could’ve hurt someone.”

“But I didn't,” Dongmyeong protested with a pout. Yonghoon muttered name-calls and ruffled Dongmyeong’s hair, earning his customary swats as he did, before he let him go to hide again. Harin laughed.

“So, we’re all friends now?”

“I’d say so,” Yonghoon said as he stood. He pointed at Harin and laughed. “You’re on thin ice though.”

“Again, I’ll take that,” Harin replied, standing up as well. He headed to the door. “Well, have fun with those two.”

“Avoiding responsibility again, huh?”

“Nah.” Harin opened the door. “Just making sure a certain ice prince doesn’t chicken out tonight.”

And like before, Harin left Yonghoon in the house to deal with whatever chaos was going to ensue with the kids.

Like Harin had promised, he brought Hyungu to dinner that night. As soon as they showed up at the door, Giwook ran into Hyungu’s arms and nuzzled him, ironically blocking him from actually entering. Hyungu looked up at Yonghoon, and they both shook their heads and laughed, turning back to Giwook.

“Missed me that much, huh?”

“Are you friends?” Giwook mumbled. Hyungu nodded, and sighed.

“Yeah, I’m friends with Yonghoon-hyung now,” Hyungu said. “Thanks for that…”

Giwook turned from Hyungu to Yonghoon, then back to Hyungu, and beamed. That kid really was something.

Dongmyeong sprung up beside him and pouted.

“It was my plan too!”

“Thank you too,  _ Dolmaengie,” _ Hyungu said. He patted their shoulders. “Now get inside you two. You’ve caused enough trouble for hyung.”

“It wasn’t trouble,” Dongmyeong said. Yonghoon scoffed.

“It was very much trouble for me!”

“Hey, but we got a happy ending, didn’t we?” Harin added as he set down the food. The four exchanged glances amongst each other, and nodded. All’s well ends well, Yonghoon guessed. He caught eyes with Hyungu again, who turned to the table, ears red. So he still was gonna act like that, huh?

“So are you gonna get the rice?” Hyungu asked.

“Oh, right, rice!” Yonghoon said. He made his way to the kitchen. “I’ll be back!”

“You better,” Harin called with a grin as Dongmyeong slid into his spot next to him. Giwook and Hyungu waved, and the former led the latter to the table, to  _ his _ spot at the table, before taking his seat on his lap. Something like the warm summer sun lit Yonghoon’s cheeks as he went to fetch the rice and side dishes. So they really were back to normal huh? He wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation of Regulus from studioweus, and Koreli Merve on lyricstranslate.com


	4. Chapter 4

The days passed by in blue skies and lone notes floating in the summer breeze. Words were scribbled in the margins of chords: the brightly shining sun, the faint crashing of ocean waves, the ever present buzz of cicadas. It wasn’t much, but that was okay. Sure, the comeback was edging closer, and perhaps he was no closer to filling out the album than he was when he'd arrived two weeks ago, yet that didn’t matter so much when Yonghoon could finally breathe.

Breathe. A simple act, one he could finally feel at ease doing. Odd.

“Nice,” Hyungu muttered, gaze still fixed on the summer homework he’d brought to work on after dinner. Yonghoon beamed.

“You really think so?”

“I liked it!” Dongmyeong yelled from across the room. Giwook looked up from his building blocks and gave a thumbs up.

“The progression was nice,” Harin added. “What’s the song you’re working on?”

“Ah, it’s nothing really,” Yonghoon said with a nervous laugh. It really was — for now it was just fragmented chords with fragmented words, all somehow connected, though he couldn’t quite pen it down. “I didn’t know you knew music?”

“Hyungu taught me a few things,” Harin said, grinning widely as Hyungu’s ears turned bright red, and a laugh couldn’t help but escape Yonghoon’s throat. The kid should just admit he was a genius, a prodigy, and most of all a  _ softie, _ but Yonghoon understood. He had an image to maintain — not that it was useful in front of his friends.

Well, friends, and an old geezer, he pointed out just a few days ago. Yonghoon let it slip by... this time.

“Hyung!” Dongmyeong, again, yelled as he ran to Yonghoon, little plastic jet in his hands. “My grandma says you’re famous.”

“Did she now?”

“Yeah, she said you wrote her favorite song,” Dongmyeong said. He pouted and pointed. ”You lied to me!”

All eyes turned to Yonghoon, and he had no choice to but hold up his hands both as a barrier and in surrender.

“Ah, hold on, I think there’s a misunderstanding.”

“Yeah, wait, hold on,” Harin said, a little mockingly, with a nod, “What’s your last name?”

“Jin.”

“Jin Yonghoon,” Harin mumbled, “Sound familiar?”

“Jin. Yong. Hoon.” Hyungu repeated, over and over, to the ceiling. Giwook raised his hand. Yonghoon turned to him.

“Yes, Wookie?”

He stood up from the fortress he’d built around himself, walked over to the closet, and slid open the door. His tiny form disappeared into it, with the distinct sound of rummaging through various toys and maybe even a few stale snacks following after. Soon, he emerged with a roll of paper in his hands — a roll he handed to Hyungu. Hyungu raised an eyebrow.

“The poster your mom gave us?”

“Mhm,” Giwook mumbled. The teens exchanged glances and nodded. They cleared away the table, Yonghoon bit his lip, as they splayed out the poster in full view.

Oh. This one...

“What is that hair?” Harin laughed. Yonghoon folded his arms, and grumbled.

“It was fashionable back then, okay?”

“‘Back then’ was three years ago,  _ ahjussi.” _

“Hey!”

“That’s hyung?” Dongmyeong asked, tilting his head. Harin pulled Dongmyeong into his lap, to much protest, and laughed again.

“Yeah, can’t you believe it?”

Dongmyeong narrowed his eyes.

“He looks really  _ really _ weird.”

“Thanks…”

“So what you’re saying is,” Hyungu began, leaning forward, “is that you really are  _ the _ Jin Yonghoon?”

“I hardly think I deserve the  _ the.” _

“But you’re not denying it?”

Yonghoon shrugged.

“Maybe.”

Hyungu’s eyes widened, his hands idly picked at his calluses as he suddenly found the pattern of the table very interesting. Yonghoon chuckled. Starstruck, now was he?

“C’mon now.” He patted Hyungu’s arm. “I’m still me.”

“I know that,” Hyungu said as he shrugged off his hand, “I’m just having some cognitive dissonance.”

“I’m that charming, aren’t I?”

_ “It’s not a compliment.” _

Giwook raised his hand, again, and Yonghoon turned to him, again, smiling despite his hurt ego.

“Yes Wookie?”

“Can you sing the  _ Reminisce _ song?” Giwook mumbled.

“What was that?” Yonghoon chided, though he really shouldn’t have, as Giwook glared before climbing into Hyungu’s lap.

“He wants you to sing, duh,” Dongmyeong said as he squirmed against Harin. “Let me go!”

“You gotta use a superpower.”

“Super robot chop!”

“Ah! You win!”

“You like that song that much?” Yonghoon asked as he leaned down to try and catch Giwook’s reaction. Giwook only turned away and buried his face into Hyungu’s shirt. Hyungu sighed.

“He grew up with it,” Hyungu said. “His parents always played it, so he kinda picked up on their taste.”

“Yeah, we probably listened to it a couple thousand times with him and the twins,” Harin added as he tried to fend off Dongmyeong’s swatting. “We don’t know why they like it so much now though. It’s not a kid’s song at all.”

“As in?”

“It’s slow, it’s quiet, it’s sad,” Hyungu rattled off, “not something you’d imagine kids liking.”

“Makes sense,” Yonghoon replied. Yeah, why did the kids like something like that? He’d written it after watching some dramas, but he couldn’t remember quite the reason for the words. All he could remember was it was supposed to be uplifting initially, but he’d pushed the track toward a different direction during production. “ _ Hip-hop,” _ he had said to Youngjo, Geonhak, and Seoho at first. Seoho had side-eyed him and laughed.  _ “You sure this is hip-hop?” _

He adjusted the guitar in his lap.

“Did you know it was supposed to be a hip-hop track?”

“Really?” Harin asked. Hyungu shook his head.

“Can’t imagine it.”

“You think the kids would like the original version more?” Yonghoon said, his fingers already ready at the strings. Harin laughed.

“I mean, it’d be fun to hear what it sounds like.”

Yonghoon grinned, and he began to strum and tap the guitar along to the old chords he had almost forgotten after practicing the studio version so many times.

_ “It gives sunset vibes,” _ Youngjo had said when he first heard it, sitting cross-legged on the floor of Yonghoon’s apartment, much like how he and the kids were right now. He laughed to himself. Maybe that’s why they had pushed it into a ballad.

_ “Life will eventually become a memory,” _ Yonghoon sang to the beat of the strings. The kids scooted closer to each other, and from the corner of his eye, he saw Giwook peeking out.  _ “Even the painful moments are memories.” _

_ Why did I not know? Why did it hurt? _

_ No no no no. _

Their voices all sang. Yonghoon paused and looked up. Even Giwook had known the words, had sung along. He smiled.

_ “Smiling with drink in hand, I can talk about it now.” _

_ Since I was young then, _

_ That was then, that was then. _

The chords continued on as he moved to the verses. Gathered like this, it felt like their little secret, a pocket of home amidst the summer heat so far from it. A laugh escaped at the end of the chorus, a little happy, a little sad, and his hand moved from chords to sliding notes for the end. Their voices came with his.

_ I want go back back back back back _

_ To my youth. _

_ I remember you — _

_ you love me. _

The song ended with a quiet flourish, and the cicadas filled the spaces inbetween. Yonghoon swallowed.

“What’d you think?”

Another pause, and then a scoff from Hyungu.

“That was  _ not _ hip-hop.”

“But I liked it!” Dongmyeong exclaimed, pouting at Hyungu. Yonghoon chuckled.

“I’m glad you did.”

Dongmyeong’s pout didn’t go away though, rather, it only deepened.

“I wish Dongju was here…”

Oh, right.

They all sunk a little under the weight. Funny how Yonghoon felt it too, even though he had never met Dongju. His fingers picked at the strings again, softly, nervously.

“You know,” Harin began, “we could organize something for whenever Dongju wakes up.”

Wakes up? Yonghoon tilted his head.

“What do you mean?”

Harin shrugged as he pulled Dongmyeong back into his lap, this time without much fight at all.

“You know, like a get-well-soon party or something. You could play a song for him and we can just hang around.”

“I mean, I know that-” But the words got stuck in his throat. He closed his mouth, decided to let it rest — it wouldn’t do to talk about it right now, not in front of the kids. Hyungu wouldn’t meet his eye.

“Will you sing for Dongju?”

“What was that, Wookie?” Yonghoon asked. Giwook pointed at the guitar.

“Sing for Dongju.”

Without an immediate answer, Giwook pouted and clasped his hands together.

“Please?”

“O-of course,” Yonghoon answered with a laugh. “Yeah. We’ll visit Dongju and give him a get-well performance. Dongmyeong, do you think Dongju would like that?”

Dongmyeong looked up from Harin’s chest, rubbed his eyes as he wriggled out of his arms, and nodded.

“Yeah! Dongju will love it!”

“Hyungu?”

“Hm?” Hyungu perked his head. “Oh. Yeah. That’d be cool.”

“Concert for Dongju! Concert for Dongju!” Dongmyeong sang as he pulled Giwook from Hyungu’s lap. Giwook cried out at his grip, but his screams quickly turned to laughs as Dongmyeong swung them around in a mini dance around the living room. Harin and Yonghoon exchanged glances, grinning. Oh kids…

“Alright all of you,” Yonghoon finally said, “it’s getting late, let’s talk about this tomorrow, yeah?”

“You’ll still be here tomorrow?”

“Yes, Myeongie. And the day after tomorrow as well.”

“Alright you rascal,” Harin groaned as he sat up. “Hyung promised. Time to go.”

“Catch me first!” Dongmyeong stuck his tongue out before bolting out the door. Harin shook his head and rolled his eyes, and followed soon after.

“Hyungu…”

“Hm?”

Giwook tugged on Hyungu’s shirt and pointed at the door. He hesitated — but soon got up as Giwook took his hand. He turned around at the door.

“Hey, hyung?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you really mean it?”

Yonghoon stood and joined him.

“Mean what?”

“The performance,” Hyungu spat out. “You’re really planning on it?”

He felt the smile slip from his face. Truth be told, he didn’t know how much time he had left on the island, whether he’d be there when Dongju… woke up, as Harin had said. He had to go back to the city someday — guess he just forgot about that fact somewhere along the way. Yet still, he looked down into Hyungu’s deep, prying, begging eyes, and his smile returned, earnest.

“I am.”

“Cool,” Hyungu replied as he turned away. “Um, would it be cool if I brought my stuff over tomorrow morning?”

Yonghoon blinked.

“Huh?”

“I dunno.” He huffed. “I guess, what I’m trying to say is…”

“Trying to get close to an industry professional, huh?” Yonghoon teased. “What a cool kid.”

“Don’t say that,” he hissed. “I just wanna write Dongju’s song with you, that’s all.”

“I’d be glad to have you on board then.” Yonghoon patted his back, and Hyungu didn’t push him off. “Get home safely now.”

“See ya,” Hyungu replied. He tapped Giwook’s shoulder, and he gave a wave.

“Bye, hyung.”

“Bye Wookie,” Yonghoon sang, warmth bubbling in his chest as it locked the words in memory. As always, Giwook asked to be carried, and the last thing Yonghoon saw before closing the door was Hyungu acquiescing, and squatting down as Giwook leapt onto his back.

Like Hyungu said, he was at Yonghoon’s the next day with his guitar and a bag of notebooks in tow. He had also managed to get Dongmyeong to  _ knock  _ for once instead of sneaking in, and when Dongmyeong started to whine, Giwook — loudly — shushed him. A glare from Hyungu also probably happened, but Yonghoon wasn’t there to see it.

“Morning hyung!”

“Morning, Myeongie,” Yonghoon hummed as he dashed past, straight to the toy closet. “Morning Wookie.”

Giwook, as usual, waved, before following Dongmyeong’s steps. Hyungu came in last and set down his bags at their feet.

“Right, let’s get started.”

“No good morning for me?” Yonghoon teased. Hyungu rolled his eyes.

“Good morning,  _ hyung.” _

Breakfast was quick and normal — just some steamed eggs and rice — and after cleaning the dishes, Yonghoon and Hyungu left Dongmyeong and Giwook to run around the living room and scream on their own. Hyungu pulled out his notebooks, some of their edges already feathered from use, staff paper, and most importantly his guitar.

“How’s that one song been coming?” Hyungu said as he began tuning his guitar. Yonghoon raised an eyebrow.

“Hm?  _ Love me?” _

“Not that one.” Hyungu jutted his chin towards Yonghoon’s notebook on the tea table. “The other one, the one about cicadas?”

“Ah, that one,” Yonghoon sighed and nodded. He smiled. “You saw it?”

“You’ve been working on it for the past week, of course I saw it. How’s it coming?”

Yonghoon shrugged. Sure, he’d been picking at the strings and messing with different lyrics, but he hadn’t gotten far. If he was in the studio, this sort of block would’ve been infuriating. Fortunately he was on an island where work pace didn’t quite matter, so he could afford the luxury of just shrugging.

“I dunno.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Hyungu said with a laugh.

“It’s just some ideas, but…” Yonghoon huffed, laughing along, and slid the notebook into Hyungu’s lap. “I’m not sure what exactly it’s trying to say.”

Hyungu’s brows knit as he scanned over the lyrics and played the chords tentatively scribbled next to them. He tapped his fingers, mumbled along. It wasn’t much — there wasn’t much to work with in the first place — but eventually, Hyungu set aside the notebook and slid it back to Yonghoon.

“It seems nostalgic so far, a good base for Dongju's song, like your other stuff.”

Oh? Yonghoon grinned.

“You-?”

“Yeah, I binged your stuff,” he jutted in, “fell asleep doing it. Don’t tell my grandma. Also don’t tell her I’m here.”

“Well what are you  _ supposed _ to be doing?”

“Homework…” 

“This really is more than a pastime, isn’t it?”

“I just have different priorities.”

Yonghoon laughed, and that alone earned a chuckle from Hyungu as well. This kid really  _ really _ was just like him. Ah, all those times he had hid from his mom, thinking she’d disapprove of his passion, but in the end she found out anyway, how could she not? It ended well, if his career was any indication. He wondered how long it’d take for Hyungu’s grandmother to find out. She seemed supportive enough — hopefully Hyungu could see that.

“You’re really living up to your hair, aren’t you?” Yonghoon teased. Hyungu tilted his head, confused.

“What?”

“Blonde’s a delinquent’s color, isn’t it?” Yonghoon said more than asked. Schools still didn’t allow any other color than black and brown, did they? Unless he was just that old, or the island was just that chill… Hyungu shook his head and scoffed.

“And do I look like I care?”

“It looks good,” Yonghoon hummed as he lifted his own guitar in his lap, “better than some other idols.”

The same kind of premonition came back, briefly overtaking Hyungu’s vision before he shut them out — however, this time, some of it seemed to stick. He lowered his head, and his voice.

“I actually really want purple hair…”

“Come with me after national exams and I’ll set you up with one of my stylists,” Yonghoon offered as he strummed his guitar. Hyungu perked up.

“Really?”

“Really.”

A little more of that vision settled again, and Hyungu chuckled, playing a harmony of his own.

“Nice try.”

The morning was spent experimenting with chords, scales, progressions, trying to capture the word and melody that had eluded Yonghoon thus far. There was harmony, there was dissonance, and sometimes there was Dongmyeong loudly letting everyone know that he liked what he just heard.

And there was Giwook, watching, judging, listening. When his eyes lit up, they’d write whatever they’d just done down, though it wasn’t certain it’d stay like that forever. It was just part of the process.

Lunch came, yet Hyungu said to wait instead of going to the convenience store. Yonghoon raised an eyebrow, and kept it metaphorically raised until the unmistakable silhouette of Harin appeared at the door, his deep voice coming right along a knock.

“Lunch is here!”

Dongmyeong and Giwook looked at each other, intrigued by this turn of events, and rushed to the door to open it before the other. Lo and behold, Harin was there, bags of food in hand.

“Harinie!”

“Woah, calm down there bud,” Harin said as he scooted past both Dongmyeong and Giwook. He looked at Hyungu. “Brought the food like you asked.”

“Thanks.”

“Does he know..?”

“Yes, Harin, he knows,” Hyungu said as Harin took a seat next to him. “Unlike you, I can tell hyung when I’m in trouble.”

“Aw, c’mon, don’t say you’re still hung up over the keys that,  _ ahem, _ we lost anyway.”

“I’m just saying,” Hyungu continued, “I’m a little upset you didn’t give me a spare. Isn’t this my base too?”

Harin shook his head as he took out the food.

“You really are just a kid, aren’t you?”

“By that logic you’re a kid too.”

“At least I’m not afraid to admit it,” Harin finished with a smile. Yonghoon laughed as he leaned back on his hands. These kids… It was funny watching the gentle giant try and tame the delicate ice prince, or perhaps he already had and this bickering was just out of habit. Hyungu turned to Yonghoon.

“What’s the dopey smile for, hyung?”

“Ah, it’s nothing.”

“He’s just excited for food, that’s all,” Harin chirped. “Dongmyeong! Giwook! Come get lunch!”

After lunch, Hyungu packed up his stuff with promises to come again in the evening to  _ actually work on his homework. _ Yonghoon nodded along with Harin’s laughter proclaiming, a little too loudly, that Hyungu was lying to himself and everyone by saying that, that everyone knew he’d just be thinking about the song all day. Hyungu laughed in return.

“As if.”

In that way, Hyungu reminded Yonghoon of himself. Yonghoon chuckled to himself then, as Hyungu left with guitar hanging over his shoulder and music sheets tucked neatly in his bag as he went to hide his work.

“Right, I’mma head back to work,” Harin said as he stretched his shoulders. Yonghoon raised an eyebrow.

“Are you even allowed to work full-time?”

“Hm? Oh, not at the port,” Harin said, laughing. “My family owns a repair shop. Technically, it’s just for electronics, but we do just about everything.”

“I see,” Yonghoon said. Harin nodded.

“If you ever need something fixed, just come over! Uh, I can’t give you discounts though.”

“I don’t mind,” Yonghoon said. He meant it — after all, Harin and his family had been providing dinner since he’d arrived, which Yonghoon still didn’t know how to repay. Harin nodded again, and after a few curt farewells, left.

With that, Yonghoon was left with Dongmyeong and Giwook again, and the three decided to play at the beach (and  _ not _ the forest no matter how much Dongmyeong begged. Even Giwook didn’t want to go this time) until dinner, when both Hyungu and Harin found them, went to the house with them, and resumed their regular routine until it was time to go home.

The next few days followed the same pattern. Hyungu would come in the morning with Dongmyeong and Giwook (though Dongmyeong seemed to be coming earlier to avoid having to knock, funny enough) and they’d go over their work from the day before while the kids played in the living room.

Hyungu, Yonghoon found, was especially adept with poeticism and imagery. It was already apparent from the lyrics of  _ Regulus, _ but seeing him actually pin down the emotions hidden between the fragmented images Yonghoon had thought of- Yonghoon knew he'd be lost without him.

“Your lyrics are usually straightforward,” Hyungu said as he jotted down some lines on the notebook. “Kinda cool to see this stuff from you, hyung.”

“Really?”

“I mean it.”

When Yonghoon read over what he’d written, he found the images finally threaded with nostalgia. Yonghoon filled the spaces between with longing.

That was only his lyrics, though. His melodies too were filled with grace and power, fitting for his age. He often had grand ideas for the composition, which Yonghoon, unfortunately, often had to pare down. It caused a little friction at first, but as production wore on, Hyungu began to understand. Hopefully, one day, they’d be able to make a song together especially tailored for his style — but Yonghoon was getting ahead of himself.

Yonghoon was getting ready for another morning of work (read: sleeping in) when an odd, smoke-like smell wafted in. Had some of the other residents held a bonfire or something? It seemed unlikely.

_ Boom! _ Yonghoon screamed — but that didn’t keep him from dashing into the kitchen to find Dongmyeong huddled on the ground, crying, and the microwave looking… well, a little bit in disrepair. Oh dear… 

“Hyung…”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Yonghoon said as he knelt next to Dongmyeong and began examining him for injuries. “Are you hurt?”

Dongmyeong shook his head. At least there wasn’t that problem to deal with. Yonghoon looked into his eyes.

“What happened?”

“I wanted to make ramyeon,” Dongmyeong sniffled, “but the microwave exploded.”

Peering into the mess that was his microwave and the bits of charred, dry ramyeon scattered around the kitchen, Dongmyeong had probably just forgotten to add water. He was still surprised it’d managed to cause such a big explosion, but then again, he’d never seen a microwave explode before. Fortunately, Dongmyeong didn’t get hit somehow.

Yonghoon sighed, before standing up, wrinkling his nose. The stench though would definitely take a while to air out. That, and, well, the microwave was broken now.

“Hyung?”

“Hm?” He realized after he might have been a little terse.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Again, he was terse. Yonghoon bit his tongue — he couldn’t lash out at a kid, much less Dongmyeong, no matter how much trouble he caused. And it wasn’t like he was angry at the microwave being broken, even if it was frustrating. He was just… worried. He sighed again. “Just- in the future, don’t try to cook without me, alright?”

“But I’ve done it before…” Dongmyeong mumbled, but after that, he was silent.

Yonghoon fried some toast in a pan for Dongmyeong and himself before Hyungu and Giwook arrived. Giwook plugged his nose as he entered, but Hyungu seemed unfazed, if not a bit curious.

“What happened?”

“Leave the door open. Microwave exploded,” Yonghoon answered, and even Hyungu seemed surprised. He pointed to the kitchen. “I’m gonna run this over to Harin’s. Could you watch the kids?”

Hyungu hesitated and something flickered in his eyes. Giwook tugged on his arm though, and brought him out of whatever thoughts had crept up.

“Y-yeah, I’ll watch them,” he said with a nod. “Do you know how to get to Harin’s?”

Right, he hadn’t ever actually been there. Hyungu shook his head.

“Follow the main road up the hill from the port. There’s a sign over the shop, you can’t miss it.”

“Thanks,” Yonghoon replied. He turned to Dongmyeong, but the poor kid wouldn’t look up from his breakfast. Maybe it was best he didn’t say anything, as he carefully lifted the microwave along with its hanging pieces, and made his way to the repair shop.

Yonghoon followed Hyungu’s directions, and like he said, the shop wasn’t hard to miss. Like everything else on the island, it was a hanok, though the shop was obviously an add-on if the house’s odd L-shape was any indication. It probably doubled as both a shop and home — Yonghoon waved to Harin’s mom tending to the plants in front, and she put a hand to her chest, shocked. Oh dear, did she recognize him?

“Morning, Mom,” Harin called as he came out the front day.

“Harinie,” she hissed, “is that..?”

“Oh, hi hyung!” Harin chirped. “What’s up?”

“Not much, just a broken microwave,” Yonghoon sighed. He bowed to Harin’s mom. “Thank you for all the dinners.”

“O-of course!” she said. She cleared her throat. “I-I’ve gotta do something inside, I’ll be right out.”

Harin’s mom ran into the house, and Harin laughed, shaking his head.

“Sorry about that.”

“No, it’s all good,” Yonghoon said as a smile grew over him, “you didn’t tell her we were friends?”

“Oh, she knew we were friends alright,” Harin said. He tapped Yonghoon’s arm and began leading him to the shop. “That’s, um, kinda why she wanted to send you food in the first place…”

Yonghoon burst out laughing. This really was food support like none other then! Harin, good natured as always, laughed along with him, as they set the microwave down on the shop counter. It seemed to him he never wanted to talk about this again, and Yonghoon was fine with that.

He pointed at the microwave and raised an eyebrow.

“And who did this?”

“Guess.”

“Dongmyeong?”

Yonghoon nodded as he folded his arms over his chest. He really wasn’t mad, he wasn’t mad at all! It was just a little frustrating… Harin seemed to sense it.

“I don’t blame him,” Harin said as he examined the parts. “The kid’s kinda been taking care of himself.”

Taking care of himself — it was tinged the same way everything else was.  _ When he wakes up, _ the nurses,  _ he’s hurt _ , and the pain, the hurt hiding behind black, icy eyes. It was a topic everyone danced around, and Yonghoon had danced along out of courtesy, but he could only pretend to know for so long before he could no longer care for them adequately.

“Harin, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask.”

“Fire away,” Harin replied, still hard at work. Yonghoon bit his lip.

“Dongju.”

“What about him?”

“Is he…” Yonghoon leaned on the counter, lowered his voice. “Is his condition really that bad?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said he needed to wake up.”

“What do you wanna know about it?” Harin said, finally looking up, though something quivered in his eyes. Yonghoon already regretted stepping on such sensitive ground — but it was too late to turn back now.

“I just wanna know what happened.”

Harin pursed his lips before turning back to the microwave. Words, memories spun in his head — Yonghoon could see them reeling past — as he tried to put them together, enough to make sense, but it barely seemed to make sense to himself. He set a hand over the top of the microwave, swallowed, and nodded.

“Dongju hit his head,” he began. “We were… we were on the way to the spot when it happened, all five of us. Slipped on the rocks, knocked out cold since then.”

His breath caught in his chest. Yonghoon set his hand on his, and Harin laced their fingers together, and squeezed.

“I… I carried him back.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m surprised Dongmyeong still wanted to show you the spot after all that, but then again, that’s our Dolmaengie for you,” Harin managed to chuckle. Yonghoon huffed with him — it was amazing, the two of them, how they could still manage to be so… so light, even after everything. He leaned, trying to catch Harin’s eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“Hm? Yeah. I’m fine.” Harin propped himself on the counter and chuckled again. “I mean, I still feel bad and all that, but what can I do about it?”

He sighed again. The less said about his own pain, the better, it seemed.

“Hyungu’s been taking it particularly hard though,” he began again. “He feels things too deeply and can’t ever show it properly either. I worry for him.”

“You’re a good friend,” Yonghoon hummed.

“Nah, it’s just natural.” Harin shook his head and smiled. “Thanks for taking him under your wing, hyung. It really means a lot to him, and to me too.”

“Of course. I am your guys’ hyung after all,” Yonghoon said, grinning now as well. Harin laughed again and met his gaze.

“You sometimes don’t act like it.”

“Hey now.”

“I’m joking,” he said as he set a hand on Yonghoon’s shoulder. “But seriously, thanks.”

“Of course.”

“Anyway, I gotta head to work, but I’ll fix it by dinner,” Harin said. He straightened himself up and led Yonghoon to the door. “You better head back, yeah?”

“Oh, yeah.” Yonghoon patted his back. “Thanks for helping me out, and, well, telling me what’s happening.”

“Don’t mention it,” Harin replied. They walked a little more down the road until they reached the crossroads to the port. There, they said their goodbyes, Harin headed to work, and Yonghoon back to the house with more than enough to think about.

When Yonghoon got back to the house, the kids were gathered around Hyungu, holding hands and swaying as Hyungu’s fingers climbed to the climax of the song, chords ringing out through the air as his shy voice cried out in desperation.

_ If a small asteroid went back in time to meet you, _

_ On that day, and the day after as well _

_ I will tell you how I feel _

_ Without a single lie _

Yonghoon leaned on the door frame then, and watched, as Hyungu struck the chords, closing the song and whatever glimpse into his heart he had opened in those brief measures.

The rest of the day came and went, and after making his nightly promises, Yonghoon bid the kids and teens goodnight. Dongmyeong was still a little shaken as he left, but Yonghoon assured him he wasn't mad. He seemed to believe it, and left, happily, with Harin. With the day done, Yonghoon fell into bed, the work of today weighing heavily on his eyelids, and bringing him instantly to sleep.

A thud, some footsteps, groggily registered with no clear connection made. It was brief, dull against paper walls and heavy eyes. They were caught in a brief moment of awareness, but quickly forgotten as sleep came again, a shroud over weary shoulders. Yonghoon glimpsed a shadow in the light, but nothing more than that before slipping back into darkness.

But then there was crying. It grasped onto his shirt and nuzzled itself against his chest, a high whine against the cicadas, a squeak achingly familiar, like Dongmyeong.

Wait. Was it… Dongmyeong?

Yonghoon’s eyes snapped open. It was Dongmyeong — crying. He wrapped his arms around his back and pulled him closer, pressed his head closer as his shirt took in all the tears and snot coming out of his trembling back, but he wouldn’t stop crying. Oh no, what happened? It must’ve been something horrible, so much so to have him coming over in the dead of night-

But why would he come here? Was he alone?

Alone.

“Shh, shh,” Yonghoon whispered, digging his face into his hair, “It’s okay, hyung’s here.”

And he seemed so small, so closed, so… so unlike the sun that shone through every fiber of his being, like he was trying to contain the thoughts, the fears flooding from his little self. Almost like a grown up… He shouldn’t have had to learn this so soon.

He held him close, patting Dongmyeong’s back as he dug himself deeper into his chest, clinging ever closer. He held him close, until his sobs turned to whimpers, and his shudders slowed to pulse.

It was quiet, then, yet still Yonghoon held him close, hoping, praying to whatever gods had brought him out here that everything would be alright, as he threw the blankets over them both, and tried his best to sleep.

The sun came and filtered through the blinds, added warmth to the already feverish room, stuck to skin with humidity and tears. Yonghoon blinked against the bleariness in his eyes and looked down. Dongmyeong. He was still here, safe, sound… asleep. Like this, he barely looked like the loud, hyper, rambunctious kid who faced the sea and laughed. No, this was something different. Rather than a blinding spotlight, this was sunlight dappled through the leaves. More than that, it was simply Dongmyeong, small, vulnerable, a child.

Yonghoon swept Dongmyeong’s tear-pressed bangs away from his face. Perhaps they were stuck by a little more than just tears — he’d get him cleaned as soon as he woke up. For now, though, he’d stay.

Stirring. Dongmyeong pressed his head against Yonghoon’s chest as his hands rubbed at his eyes. Yonghoon smiled.

“Wakey wakey, sleepyhead.”

Dongmyeong looked up, eyes still a little red and still a little puffy, but very much still sleepy. He pouted and buried his face back into Yonghoon.

“There, there. It’s okay.”

He didn’t even swipe at him when Yonghoon ran his hand through his hair.

“Do you want something to eat?”

Dongmyeong nodded.

“Come on then, let’s get out of bed.”

“No-” he whined as he clutched at Yonghoon’s shirt. Yonghoon furrowed his brow.

“Will you get up if I carry you?”

He nodded again, and shifted as Yonghoon sat up and moved his arms under him to pick him up, wrapped his own arms around his neck and rested his head on Yonghoon’s shoulder as he stood. Poor kid…

Dongmyeong nearly cried again when Yonghoon set him down on the kitchen floor, held back only by a deep, trembling pout and whatever pride a seven-year-old could have. Yonghoon clicked his tongue as he wetted some paper towels at the sink and wiped him down. The snot and tears had crusted on Dongmyeong’s nose, on his cheeks — he pressed a little more harshly around those areas, though he didn’t want to.

Yonghoon let Dongmyeong cling to his legs as he moved to make some steamed eggs and rice, something warm anyways. He clung still as they sat down in the living room, and sat in Yonghoon’s lap to eat. It was difficult, but Yonghoon couldn’t find it in himself to tell him to let go.

It was while they were eating breakfast in the living room when frantic knocks startled them out of silence.

“Hey, Myeongie, can you get off?”

He whined, but acquiesced, and Yonghoon slid out and walked to the door to answer. From the silhouettes, he could tell who it was already.

“Hyung,” Harin panted, “Where’s Dongmyeong-”

“He’s here,” Yonghoon replied as he stepped aside. Harin sighed — relieved — and rushed into the room to scoop Dongmyeong into his arms. Hyungu took his place at the door, with Giwook shuffling in behind him. Yonghoon waved to him, he waved back.

“His grandma called us this morning, asked us to check on him,” Hyungu began. “We, um, panicked when he wasn’t home.”

“Oh.”

“Giwook suggested we look here.” Hyungu patted Giwook on the back, though the kid hid his face behind him. Yonghoon chuckled, though, concern quickly overtook him, and he furrowed his brow.

“Was no one else at home?”

“Yeah, it’s just him, his grandma.”

“I see,” Yonghoon said with a nod. He would’ve been alone last night, like he’d suspected — no wonder he was so shaken. But more importantly-

“What happened?”

“His grandma got a call from the hospital last night, something really urgent.” Hyungu shook his head. “Didn’t say what though.”

Yonghoon nodded again, and turned to the living room. Harin was coddling Dongmyeong, holding him almost too tightly as Dongmyeong rushed to finish breakfast. He must have told him something good — Dongmyeong was only picking at it earlier. Soon enough, Harin was wiping away the stray rice from his face, and with that, Dongmyeong sprang to his feet, ran to the door, and grabbed Yonghoon’s hand.

“Hyung! Hurry! We have to see Dongju!”

“W-what?”

“We’re visiting the hospital,” Harin said as he made his way to the door. “His grandma said to come.”

“That, and it’d make Dongmyeong feel better,” Hyungu added as Giwook was dragged out from behind him and led to the car sitting on the road. Yonghoon pointed at it.

“Wait, who’s driving?”

“I am,” Harin chirped.

“You have your license..?”

“What, you don’t?” he laughed as he slung his arms around their shoulders. “Yeah, my birthday’s in spring. Whaddaya say, we go?”

Despite the urgency on their mind — or perhaps because of it — Yonghoon found the drive to the hospital long, too long, even on such a little island which was quickly becoming bigger than he had thought. They passed by a few more villages along the coastal road, all of which climbed up the different hills and cliffs which made up the island’s topography, with only fields and fields of crops to separate them by. And the clear, blue sky stretched ever onwards, disturbed only by the crashing of the waves beside them.

But they eventually reached their destination, a white, pristine hospital, built in modernity unlike the hanoks dotting the rest of the island, and quickly they filed out of the car. Dongmyeong, however, jumped.

The receptionist took one look at them before she began leading them through the hallways of closed doors, seemingly never-ending as none of them were the  _ right one. _ More than once, twice, Yonghoon had to tug Dongmyeong back from running.

They finally stopped at a door, nondescript, the same as every other door they’d passed. Again, Yonghoon pulled Dongmyeong back from rushing in, and the receptionist looked up at him, a thank you in her eyes. She set her hand on the handle, and sighed.

“Alright, be quiet, everyone,” she said. “Especially you, Dongmyeong.”

“I am quiet, noona.”

“I believe you,” she said, though she obviously didn’t. “Dongju hasn’t woken up, but he’s fine. Just… tread carefully.”

They nodded, and with that, the receptionist opened the door.

Sunlight graced the room through a lightly curtained window, warm, but without joy. It couldn’t be, with the machines that stood next to the bed, measuring, tracking, ringing.

And there was Dongju — his figure woven between the cords, a large scar stitched across his shaven head, yet laid peacefully in clean, white sheets.

Dongmyeong’s grandmother sat hunched at his side, until the receptionist came and tapped her shoulder. She looked up, and smiled.

“Ah, Wheein, so glad to see you.”

“Grandma!”

“And you too, young man,” she cooed as Dongmyeong embraced her. “Ah, I’m so sorry for leaving you last night.”

“It’s okay,” Dongmyeong hummed back. “Yonghoon-hyung was there instead.”

She looked up at Yonghoon — he bowed. Hyungu pushed past him.

“Dongju..?”

“He’s okay, Hyungu,” she said as she patted Dongmyeong’s head. “He’s okay now.”

A sigh, a nod. Harin grasped Hyungu’s hand, unable to find a smile, and let the smaller boy lean on him as he continued to nod, trying, desperately, to hold himself together. Giwook latched himself behind Hyungu, silent even now as he in his innocence tried to comfort Hyungu.

Wheein bowed to Dongmyeong’s grandmother, to Yonghoon, and left him, alone. He turned to the ground. What could he do? What was he supposed to do?

“Hyung?”

“Y-yes, Myeongie?”

“Can you sing a song for us?” Dongmyeong asked, small, soft. His grandmother furrowed her brows.

“Dongmyeong.”

“He sings really good…”

“It’s improper to ask for a favor like that.”

“No, it’s okay,” Yonghoon said. “I can sing, but only if you’d like me to, halmeonim.”

Dongmyeong’s grandmother sucked in a shallow breath and leaned back in her chair as she let it out, nodding. She pursed her lips.

“You’re Jin Yonghoon, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Yonghoon answered with a bow. “I am.”

“Could you sing  _ Gift, _ then?”

_ Gift? _ He’d sung it before, when he first arrived on the island as a compulsory thing, more out of habit than anything. It was an old song, and like all his other songs, he hadn’t found feeling in it for a long time. He couldn’t even remember the reason the words came about in the first place — there was no face to direct them to — only that he’d wanted it to uplift, like every other song he’d written.

Right. To uplift.

Yonghoon cleared his throat, yet all their eyes, even his, stayed glued to the ground, to the bed.

_ Don’t cry anymore. _

_ Don’t feel tired anymore. _

And they had more vitality in them than they had at first, despite his shaking voice threatening to break.

_ I know I was selfish. _

_ I know you can’t breathe well. _

And the reasons for the words, for the notes, appeared in glimpses of smiles, in the echoes of laughter, in the old, drawling voice that edged alongside his own, one that knew the words with every fiber of her breaking being.

_ The stars that shine in the night sky, _

_ The flowers that bloom in pink — _

In the sunlight filtering through the curtains, far from the faint crashing of waves at the shore, and within the singing of the cicadas, they laid their hearts on the bed, and listened to the words flowing with newfound vigor in the dawn. Even as the minutes ticked past, the time here didn’t seem to run out. And Yonghoon smiled, painfully, through the warmth blooming in his chest as he — as they — stumbled over the last words of the verse.

_ This I give to you as a gift. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry christmas to those who celebrate it! otherwise, hope you have a wonderful day anyways! <3
> 
> Translation of RAA by Софья on lyricstranslate.com
> 
> Translation of Parting by studioweus, and popgasa at lyricskpop.net


	5. Part 2 - The Ocean Waves Swept You Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! if you're coming from the oneus tag, thank you for being patient until now haha. it was just barely added with this chapter. thank you for reading, hope you enjoy!

Something odd came over Yonghoon. The urgency from the hospital never quite went away, acting almost like a deadline, but with no discernable date in sight. He _had_ to work on this song.

“Hyung, Hyungu, slow down,” Harin had to remind them quite a few times. “It’s okay if it’s not done today.”

“Or tomorrow, or the day after that,” Dongmyeong chimed in, though Yonghoon was pretty sure he didn’t know exactly what that meant. Giwook agreed with a nod, and that was about the only thing that kept Yonghoon and Hyungu on a regular eating schedule over the next… however many days had passed.

However, there were more pressing matters than just the song, and that was what motivated it in the first place. There was no telling when Dongju would suddenly have another emergency, and if there was, if Dongmyeong would run to Yonghoon’s again. Yonghoon exchanged numbers with Harin and Hyungu, just in case. They probably should’ve done that a long time ago, but the past was past, and the only way was forward.

Yonghoon and Hyungu definitely abused this privilege though, sending clips of melodies, snippets of lyrics, or even just messages of reassurance late into the night. It was… nice. Yonghoon would always end up scolding Hyungu for staying up so late, only for the teen to scold him back for doing the same.

He couldn’t help it though, not with unread texts ominously piling up in his inbox. Yonghoon knew exactly what they meant — he just… didn’t want to think about it.

“Yonghoon-ssi!”

A knock at the door accompanied by two silhouettes outside, and Hyungu raised an eyebrow.

“Yongsun-noona?”

“Wookie!” Dongmyeong suddenly cried as he grabbed Giwook’s wrist. “Hide!”

The kids scrambled into the closet and shut the door a little too loudly behind them. Yonghoon chuckled and shook his head, but Hyungu stared at him still.

“What’s she doing here?”

“Dunno,” Yonghoon said as he stood. “Let’s find out.”

Truth be told, he had no idea what she was doing here either, though he could guess who the other figure could be. But surely, _he_ wouldn’t have actually come to the island, right?

He opened the door and gasped.

“Youngjo?!”

“Miss me?” Youngjo said with a smirk. Yonghoon laughed as he threw an arm around his shoulder and pushed him into the living room.

“Of course I did! Why wouldn’t I miss my favorite person in the world?”

“Aww, I missed you too, _Yonghoonie.”_

Hyungu turned away from them both and plugged his ears. The two men laughed and waved goodbye to Yongsun with a bow, a wave she returned with a grin before going off to do… whatever it was she did everyday. Even now, her routine was a mystery to Yonghoon.

“So,” Youngjo began with a clap of his hands, “how’s the vacay been?”

“Wonderful,” Yonghoon cooed. “Couldn’t have had more fun being stuck on an island in the middle of nowhere.”

Youngjo rubbed his chin.

“I see, I see.”

“Is something wrong?” Yonghoon asked, though he really didn’t want the answer.

“Yeah, something is wrong,” Youngjo said with a nod. He jabbed an accusatory finger at Yonghoon’s chest. “You haven’t been responding to any of my texts!”

“Hey, this is just a minor misunderstanding-”

“Nuh uh, you left me on read!”

It really wasn’t a misunderstanding. Yonghoon had indeed left Youngjo on read for the past week, and then conveniently forgotten their contents, but it was only because there were other more important things on his mind, like how they were gonna keep Hyungu’s music writing escapades a secret (though he really didn’t need to), how he was gonna repay Harin’s mom for all the meals she’d cooked over the past month, or in general how Dongmyeong was doing — how _Dongju_ was doing.

“A-ah! That. You know how island signal is-”

“I have four bars here.”

“Well then-”

“Hey, hey, I’m joking,” Youngjo laughed, patting Yonghoon on the shoulder, “as long as you’ve been having fun and _relaxing,_ that’s all that matters, right?”

“R-right,” Yonghoon chuckled nervously.

“INTRUDER!”

Youngjo whipped around, but he wasn’t fast enough to dodge Dongmyeong and Giwook roaring out the closet with sticks they’d found in the forest swinging overhead. Yonghoon lunged.

“Hey!”

“ATTAAAAAACK!”

“Dongmyeong! What did I tell you about playing with sticks?” Yonghoon cried as he caught them midswing and yanked them out the kids’ hands. Giwook screamed, grasping his palm as he dove into Hyungu’s lap. Dongmyeong pouted, and folded his arms.

“I shouldn’t swing them around.”

“Because?”

“It’s bad.”

“And?”

“Because I can hurt someone.”

“Exactly,” Yonghoon said as he set them on the ground. “You don’t wanna hurt anyone, do you?”

“But that ahjussi’s an intruder!” Dongmyeong said as he pointed to Youngjo. Youngjo held a hand to his heart.

_“What?”_

“He is your _hyung,_ Dongmyeongie,” Yonghoon said as he tried his best to bite back a laugh. “He’s a year younger than me.”

Dongmyeong raised an eyebrow.

“Does that mean he’s in a boy group?”

“Ha! You wish!” Youngjo said. “The industry just couldn’t handle my good looks.”

“You’re annoying.”

“Dongmyeong!”

“What, I’m right!”

Yonghoon buried his face in his hands. This was absolutely, positively, the worst way for all of this to have played out. He swore the kids were normally, well, not necessarily well behaved, but at least a bit _more_ well behaved than this. Oh no… his image.

Youngjo laughed.

“Won’t deny that,” he said as he knelt down to meet Dongmyeong in the eye. “It’s why Yonghoon-hyung hasn’t been texting me back.”

“You’re that annoying?”

“Yeah.”

“That means hyung doesn’t like you, right?”

“Not true,” Yonghoon spat out. “I love Youngjo!”

“I love you too hyung~”

Dongmyeong scrunched his nose. He walked over to where Hyungu and Giwook were sitting and pulled on his sleeve.

“Hyungu, hyung’s being weird.”

“And what do you want me to do about it?” Hyungu asked as he held back a scoff. Dongmyeong pouted.

“Make him not weird!”

“Hyung’s always been weird,” he said with a shake of his head, “can’t really help you with that. Sorry.”

“And who might you be?” Youngjo purred as he turned to Hyungu. Hyungu bowed his head.

“Kang Hyungu. Nice to meet you, Youngjo-ssi.”

“Please, call me hyung,” Youngjo said. “A friend of Yonghoonie is already of friend of mine~”

Hyungu nodded and turned away slowly. Giwook, pouting, peeked out from his chest.

“Intruder?”

“No, Giwookie,” Yonghoon laughed. “Youngjo is not an intruder.”

Giwook whipped his head away from Yonghoon. So he was mad at him, wasn’t he?

“So you kids have been treating Yonghoon-hyung well, then?” Youngjo asked. Dongmyeong puffed out his chest.

“Mhm! Yonghoon-hyung is my friend!”

“Is he your best friend?”

“No. My best friend is my brother, Dongju. He’s in the hospital.”

“I’m sorry.”

“My grandma says he’s going to get better soon,” Dongmyeong chirped. “She always tells me not to worry but I do anyways.”

“That’s understandable,” Youngjo hummed. “I was worried for Yonghoon-hyung even though I knew he’d make good friends like you while he was here.”

“Really?” Dongmyeong asked. Youngjo nodded.

“Really. It’s just different when your best friend is gone, isn’t it?”

Dongmyeong took the words, spinning them in his little head before looking up and nodding. He held out a hand.

“Be my friend!”

“Even though I’m annoying?”

“Yonghoon-hyung was a meanie when he became my friend,” Dongmyeong said, and Yonghoon felt heat rise in his neck. “You’re already a lot better than him.”

“Look who’s being the meanie now…” Yonghoon mumbled. Dongmyeong stuck his tongue at him, and Youngjo bellowed in laughter again as he took Dongmyeong’s hand.

“Alright, we’re friends now. Thank you for taking care of Yonghoon-hyung.”

“He takes care of me a lot too,” Dongmyeong added. Youngjo looked at Yonghoon and raised an eyebrow.

“Really?”

“You wouldn’t believe,” Yonghoon sighed. He patted Dongmyeong’s arm. “How about you and Giwook go play city or something? I think Youngjo wants to talk to me.”

“But I wanna talk to Youngjo too.”

“It’ll be boring,” Youngjo warned. Dongmyeong pouted.

“Still.”

“Okay, okay, you can listen,” Yonghoon finally acquiesced. “Don’t say we didn’t tell you.”

Dongmyeong nodded as Yonghoon and Youngjo took seats on opposite sides of the tea table, Yonghoon next to Hyungu and Giwook. He plopped himself down in Yonghoon’s lap as Youngjo began, again, with a clap.

“Alright, so I’m guessing you haven’t _just_ been relaxing, huh?”

“How could you tell?” Yonghoon asked with a smile. Youngjo leaned in, elbows on the table.

“Well, there’s that rascal sitting on your lap.”

“Hey!”

“I mean it endearingly.”

“What does endearingly mean?” Dongmyeong whispered. Hyungu turned to him.

“It means with love.”

“And there’s you,” Youngjo said, turning to Hyungu. “This stuff’s both yours and Yonghoon-hyung’s, isn’t it?”

Hyungu nodded.

“Our hyungs write songs,” Giwook mumbled.

“Do they now?”

“They’re really good!” Dongmyeong chirped.

“Oh shush,” Yonghoon hissed as he tickled Dongmyeong as payback. Dongmyeong squirmed, and swatted his arms as Youngjo nodded.

“Right? That’s why it’s his job.”

“They’re writing a really cool song for Dongju right now,” Dongmyeong added when he was done kicking. “You should listen to it.”

“The draft isn’t even finished yet,” Yonghoon sputtered. Youngjo raised an eyebrow. “But I did manage to get another draft done if you wanna hear?”

Hyungu bit his lip and turned away as Yonghoon reached for his notebook, flipping it to a dog-eared page before he grabbed his guitar, Dongmyeong sliding off his lap as he did. Youngjo raised an eyebrow.

“Name?”

 _“Love me,”_ Yonghoon replied with a smile as he plucked the first notes. They were short, cute, perfect when he thought about Gyukie. He laughed as he read the lyrics again to sing.

_I didn’t know you were that adorable._

_Where did this courage come from?_

Dongmyeong, Giwook, and even Hyungu bopped their heads along to the song — he was glad they did! It was by no means title track material, but it wasn’t meant to be: if anything, it was supposed to be for moments like this, chilling with friends, and if they were older, perhaps at a cafe. When the song finished, Youngjo was smiling.

“Nice.”

“Thanks.”

“Really different from your other stuff,” he added. “Really does look like you’re enjoying yourself here.”

“Play it again!” Dongmyeong cheered. Giwook nodded.

“Again!”

“Maybe another time,” Yonghoon laughed. He turned again to Youngjo. “Have you eaten?”

“Unlike you, Yonghoonie, I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” Youngjo replied. He laughed and sighed. “Jin Yonghoon. Fainted from not sleeping, drinking, or eating, taking care of kids on an island vacation? Who would’ve thought.”

“I know, right?” Yonghoon laughed. He wrapped an arm around Hyungu. “But I really couldn’t have done it without this guy over here.”

“Oh?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Hyungu muttered as he flicked off Yonghoon’s grip.

“Then what if I said you’re the best guitarist I’ve ever heard?”

“Shush…”

“That’s an awful high compliment from our local perfectionist,” Youngjo said, “and totally on brand for our grease king too.”

“It’s out of love.”

“I know it is, hyung.”

The kids all exchanged glances with each other, disgusted, to which Yonghoon and Youngjo laughed. Ah, it really did feel nice having him here — even if his arrival meant the one thing he dreaded. He wouldn’t think about that right now, not now.

Yonghoon and Youngjo sat at the side of the room as Hyungu watched Dongmyeong and Giwook. To be fair, they hadn’t just dumped child-watching responsibility on Hyungu — Hyungu had insisted Yonghoon take a break and catch up with Youngjo, _on his own._ Yonghoon and Youngjo had a good laugh. Looks like their greasiness worked.

They chatted while the kids wreaked havoc — or rather, while Dongmyeong wreaked havoc and Hyungu and Giwook did damage control — about Yonghoon’s adventure on the island, Youngjo’s own progress on his projects now that he didn’t have to worry about Yonghoon so much, and invariably the progress on the album.

“Geonhak’s been looking through your drafts and getting everything polished,” Youngjo said. Yonghoon glared.

“You went through my _what?”_

“Your drafts,” he said, clearly unbothered. “Byulyi-nim pretty much approved them all with the date coming up so quickly, so all you’ll really need to worry about is the voice recording, the photoshoots, and the music video.”

“But they’re trash.”

“Hyung, you really need more confidence in yourself.” Youngjo squeezed his shoulder, grinning. “If our CEO approved them herself, they’re _good.”_

“Still,” Yonghoon sighed, “can’t a man get some privacy?”

The unspoken answer was _no._ Yonghoon knew that, no matter how much Youngjo skirted around the question. After all, the comeback date was less than a month away and there was still an album to be filled, hiatus or no. Yonghoon’s heart sank. Just how much had Geonhak and Seoho suffered, picking up after his mess? He’d be sure to profusely apologize to them, on top of thanking them.

“Anyway,” Youngjo continued, “we still need a title track, and we decided to wait for you to get back to decide which one should be it. We could even include one of those songs you wrote this month if you wanted.”

“Ah, I dunno about that.”

“They’re good.”

“One of them isn’t even through the draft stage yet,” Yonghoon said, again, hoping Youngjo wouldn’t catch the other reason for his hesitation. He probably did, but if he did, he didn’t say anything. He only gave Yonghoon another squeeze on the shoulder, and another smile.

“That’s why we’re here, hyung. Geonhak, Seoho, hell, even me. We’re here to back you up.”

“What I’m saying is you haven’t even heard the second one.”

“I don’t need to to know it’s a masterpiece.”

“Aw, thanks,” Yonghoon said and returned the shoulder squeeze. Yet dread settled over him — just how much longer could he hide?

“Lunch is here!”

Dongmyeong and Giwook stopped playing jets long enough to rush to the door and let Harin in, bags of food and all. As always, Harin waded through their antics, laughing, as he set the food down on the tea table, but he perked up at the sight of Youngjo, and waved.

“Hey, I don’t think we’ve met before.”

“We haven’t,” Youngjo assured him. He bowed his head. “Kim Youngjo.”

“Ju Harin. Nice to meet you, Youngjo-ssi.”

Youngjo tilted his head at the food as he leaned back on his hands, a gentle smile.

“So you’ve the one who’s been feeding Yonghoon-hyung, huh?”

“That’d be my mom,” Harin laughed, “but yeah.”

“I knew Yonghoon wasn’t functioning all by himself.”

“Well you’re not wrong.”

“Hey, you-”

Youngjo blew a kiss to Yonghoon, and Yonghoon could only huff to accept it. Hyungu covered Giwook’s eyes, Dongmyeong screamed, all while Harin laughed.

“Can’t you two keep it kid-friendly?” Hyungu groaned.

“I can’t help it since I love Yonghoon-hyung so much,” Youngjo teased. Giwook pouted.

“Hyungu loves him more!”

“Wookie! Shush!”

“Well I love him this much more than all of you!” Dongmyeong said as he stood on his tip-toes, arms stretched to their maximum.

“I love you too, Myeongie,” Yonghoon laughed as Harin pulled Dongmyeong into his lap. “Right, I’ll get utensils. Please treat Youngjo- _hyung_ well, okay?”

Lunch passed with a lot more laughter and screaming than usual, no doubt thanks to Youngjo being there. Youngjo was usually a quiet soul on his own — it was fortunate the others were able to draw out his playful side, though it probably helped that Yonghoon was finally there with him. The poor guy probably needed the breather too.

Harin and Hyungu left afterwards, as usual, to their respective jobs, and as usual, the kids were itching to get out after being inside all morning. Dongmyeong loudly proclaimed his idea of going to the farmers’ fields, but Yonghoon and Giwook quickly shot it down, though the idea had amused Youngjo.

“What if we went to the beach?” Yonghoon said. “Youngjo-hyung just got here, we should give him a tour of someplace nice.”

“But the field is nice,” Dongmyeong whined.

“Is not,” Giwook retorted.

“Is too.”

“Myeongie, what if I said I _wanted_ to go the beach, hm?” Youngjo asked. At that, Dongmyeong acquiesced, and after slathering sunscreen and getting Giwook on Yonghoon’s back (again, to Youngjo’s amusement), they were off.

The beach was chilly as always, despite the beating sun. Dongmyeong and Giwook decided to climb some rocks along the shore, but that only lasted a short while before Yonghoon called them back, afraid the rocks were too slick. After that, the kids decided to run to and from the shoreline, teasing the ocean and laughing as it licked their feet. Yonghoon folded his arms and sighed. They could get swept away, but at least this was, by far, less dangerous than the rocks.

“So you know why I’m here, right?”

Yonghoon glanced at the ground. So, this conversation was finally happening?

“I mean, I can guess.”

Youngjo sighed with him as their gaze returned to the kids. They were bent over the sand now, searching, obviously, for something.

“Look,” Youngjo began. He cleared his throat. “I know it’s gonna be hard leaving all this behind, but in the end, you still have a job to do.”

“I know that.”

“But on the bright side, you still did your job when you weren’t supposed to, so go you.”

Yonghoon snickered.

“I guess.”

Silence, save for the crashing waves, the crying seagulls, and Dongmyeong and Giwook’s chatter. They were huddled next to something Giwook had found, but screamed as soon as the waves came to remind them of its presence. Yonghoon chuckled.

“Are you gonna tell the kids?”

“Hm?”

“You’ve been taking care of them for the past month, haven’t you?” Youngjo asked. Yonghoon shrugged.

“I mean, yeah.”

“They really like you.”

“Oh really?”

“Is the Jin Yonghoon in denial about receiving affection?” Youngjo scoffed. “This vacation really did change you.”

They laughed together. As much trouble as they had given him, he really couldn’t deny they liked him. They reminded him of that fact daily by their sheer clinginess. Yonghoon was too afraid to admit he’d fallen as well.

Youngjo lowered his voice.

“You’ve gotten the texts, though, right?”

The texts he had never responded to because he was in denial?

“Yeah.”

“You know we’re leaving tomorrow.”

“I know.”

“Are you gonna tell them?”

Would he tell them? He had to tell them — they’d find out anyway, someway, somehow. It was better they heard it from him directly, yet, Yonghoon didn’t know if he could handle facing them, looking into their eyes and seeing the bandaid leave a bright, red mark where it once was, and seeing the tears well up as it did. He shook his head.

“I dunno.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Youngjo asked. Yonghoon waved him off.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. Kids forget quickly anyway.”

A lie. Youngjo knit his brow, sucked in his teeth, and tilted his head as he turned away.

“If you say so.”

“Hyung, hyung!” Dongmyeong called. Yonghoon squatted down as he and Giwook ran to him, hands full of, well, something. He tilted his head, and the kids giggled.

“Your hands,” Giwook said, and Yonghoon held them out as asked. He and Dongmyeong emptied their own, and a plethora of iridescent shell shards fell into his palms. Yonghoon looked up.

“For me?”

“Yup!” Dongmyeong said. “Aren’t they cool?”

They threatened to cut if he closed his hands too tightly, but he did it anyway as they scurried off to give Youngjo his own shells, and hoped it’d give him an excuse to cry.

Harin and Hyungu brought dinner — kimchi jjigae made with freshly caught seafood — and Yonghoon supplied the rice as always. He made a point to thank Harin, to tell him to thank his mom especially for the food, and Harin looked at him funny until Youngjo thanked him as well. Hyungu, however, sensed something amiss. He wouldn’t say it, but it was clear from the glances he’d take at both Youngjo and Yonghoon.

“So, Harin,” Youngjo began, “what’re you thinking of doing after graduation?”

“Eh, probably something in business,” Harin said, and the image of the family repair shop came to mind. Yonghoon never would’ve figured he was that kind of guy without knowing that. Youngjo nodded with an oh.

“You don’t seem like the kinda guy to go into it.”

“Really?” Harin laughed in reply. Youngjo grinned, tilted his head.

“All the business majors I knew back in the day were pretentious cutthroats. You though? Friendlier than a dog.”

Harin laughed again as he ladeled some more jjigae into Dongmyeong’s bowl.

“Thanks, hyung. You really scared me there for a sec.”

“Of course! You’ve got a very pleasant personality.”

“You hear this guy?” Harin jabbed Hyungu and cocked his head toward Youngjo. “What a grease king.”

“I’m so glad you weren’t here this morning…”

“And what about you Hyungu?” Youngjo asked. “Any plans after graduation?”

Hyungu shrugged, looking down at his own stew.

“I dunno, still thinking about it.”

“Have you considered doing music?”

A smile tugged on Hyungu’s lips as he sighed.

“Yonghoon-hyung’s been trying to convince me to.”

But only if he accepted that desire to come into the industry — it was hard, working in it. The last thing Yonghoon wanted was to see Hyungu, so delicate, so powerful, so full of potential, get quashed under the system.

“How about you play some guitar after dinner?”

“I wanna hear Hyungu-hyung play guitar!” Dongmyeong cheered. Giwook nodded.

“Yeah!”

“Only since you guys want me to,” Hyungu answered, looking at the kids, and he scooped a little more food into his mouth.

Hyungu wouldn’t admit it, but he buzzed with excitement as Yonghoon passed his guitar to him to play after dinner. Apart from an excuse to get out of studying, this was his passion, and Yonghoon’s guitar was a really nice guitar. Youngjo smiled.

“Our CEO got it for him.”

Which she had, back when he was still bright and green in the industry. It was about the same as the other guitars Yonghoon had fiddled with in his first agency, but being given it, entrusted with it so soon after joining the company — he was absolutely floored. He tried denying it, but Byulyi wouldn’t have it.

_“Just work hard, alright? I just wanna see you flourish.”_

Hyungu got to tuning the guitar as soon as it was handed to him, and under his touch the tone sounded just that much brighter. Already, Youngjo seemed impressed.

“Which one are you gonna sing?” Harin asked.

“I dunno,” Hyungu replied.

“Do the one about the asteroid!” Dongmyeong said. Hyungu shook his head.

“No. that’s- I can’t.”

 _“Regulus?”_ Giwook piped up. Hyungu’s classic, it wouldn’t hurt to hear it another time. He seemed happy with that choice, and looked to Yonghoon.

“Will you sing?”

“Of course.”

Because even if he couldn’t keep all his promises, he’d try to at least keep this one.

Yonghoon began the song, with Hyungu’s guitar prancing in soon after. The words were familiar, a nocturnal planet, dark, but not lonely. He took a breath.

_In this place where I breathe,_

_A flower that looks like you_

_Is still with me,_

_Not withering._

And he sang through the verses, the chorus again, the reprise as Hyungu’s guitar escalated beyond the runs and chords, and his voice almost became a cry itself as the words died on his tongue, and the song ended with that same unfinished scale, ever longing. Harin applauded, and the kids soon followed suit along with Youngjo nodding, smiling.

“Well done.”

“Hyung made it a hundred times better,” Hyungu said, and bowed as he gave Yonghoon his guitar back. Youngjo laughed.

“He just has that magic, doesn’t he? But you’re impressive in your own right as well. You wrote that?”

Hyungu nodded, and Youngjo’s awe only grew.

When the long summer evening finally turned to night, and it was time for the kids to go, Hyungu and Giwook hurried out of the house, the former clearly flustered at today’s turn of events. However, Dongmyeong, as always, stayed behind just a little bit longer, much to Harin’s exasperation, no matter how patient the teen was. He stood at the door and pouted at Yonghoon.

“I’m not leaving until you promise.”

“I know,” Yonghoon said. Dongmyeong held out his pinkie.

“You’ll be here tomorrow?”

Yonghoon looked at his small, pudgy hand, and smiled, though bitterly, as he knelt in front of him, and set it down.

“I’ll be here, always, if you remember me,” he said, and poked Dongmyeong's chest. Dongmyeong laughed and swatted his hand.

“That tickles.”

“Should I do it again?”

“No!” Dongmyeong cried as he darted away from the door. Harin huffed, laughing, though he looked at Yonghoon weirdly before he chased after Dongmyeong. Yonghoon closed the door behind them —

And that was that.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he lied as he lay down next to Youngjo on the floor mattress. Youngjo didn’t buy it.

“Hey, it’s okay to cry you know.”

“You’re telling me?”

“Because I know you’re a crybaby at heart.”

“You didn’t have to say it out loud.”

“But I did.”

Yonghoon laughed and leaned into Youngjo’s shoulder, and Youngjo leaned back. He really wasn’t fulfilling his role as a hyung right now, but since when had he ever? And… and it felt nice, having someone there, filling in the emptiness quickly expanding in his heart.

Youngjo sighed and patted his arm.

“As much as I hate to move, we gotta pack.”

“But it’s so nice here…”

“I know, hyung, I know.”

Everything was packed and ready for transport by the time Youngjo’s alarm went off. It startled Yonghoon — he hadn’t set his alarm since he’d arrived. Youngjo tried to laugh at him, but tiredness combined with urgency choked it halfway.

By the time they moved everything to the port, the sun had just barely peeked over the hilly horizon, still too early for Harin’s shift. Youngjo bowed.

“Sorry, hyung.”

“It’s okay.”

If only the ferry schedules were just a bit later… he could’ve caught Harin, spilled his heart to the one guy he knew for sure wouldn’t strangle him on the spot for such sudden news. Yet, it wouldn’t have been fair to Harin, to bear the weight alone. Maybe it was for the best they left now rather than later.

He wondered if he’d cry, knew Dongmyeong and Giwook would, wondered again at Hyungu. The broken shells jingled in his pockets.

“Hyung.”

Youngjo pinched his wrist, the only warmth against the icy morning by the sea. Yonghoon nodded, took one look back at the village nestled within verdant hills, cicadas, sunshine and all, before boarding the ship back to the city. He had a job to do after all, island, or no island.

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸

The house was quiet as usual. Grandma was probably at the hospital again, working with Wheein-noona to help Dongju wake up. Dongmyeong got changed. Yonghoon-hyung and Hyungu-hyung made something really special for Dongju. It sounded so good! He couldn’t remember how it went; they were always changing it even though it always sounded good no matter what they did. Why didn’t they just keep it the way it was? He didn’t know. Adults were weird. He grabbed the key to the secret base, the one Harin always thought he’d lost, and ran out the door.

Hyungu-hyung wasn’t at the door to the base. Good. That meant Dongmyeong didn’t have to knock, because he shouldn’t have to knock when it was his secret base! Besides, Yonghoon-hyung never complained about him going in by himself. For all he knew, Yonghoon was just his guest, not the other way around.

“Hyung!”

But the main room was empty. Was Yonghoon-hyung hiding? Dongmyeong looked in the closet, and the closet in the kitchen, and the closet in the bathroom, but Yonghoon-hyung wasn’t there. He really was good at hiding, even though he was really tall.

Dongmyeong turned the corner from the kitchen to the bedroom, the door was closed. Yonghoon-hyung didn’t usually close the door. Maybe he was hiding in here?

“Hyung.”

But the room was cleared, not even the mattress was rolled out. It was in the bedroom closet instead, which was empty, with no clothes hung up or piled on the ground. Dongmyeong sat down.

“Hyung?”

But there was only silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation of Love Me from musixmatch.com  
> Translation of Regulus by Koreli Merve on lyricstranslate.com


	6. Chapter 6

“Welcome back Yonghoon-hyung.”

“Thanks, Geonhak,” Yonghoon said, though the occasion didn’t feel happy at all. Well, not like it could be happy anyway, getting back to work, no matter how much he loved music. The comeback date he had forgotten in the sun now loomed overhead, and it came back with a vengeance, more daunting than it was before. The few days he spent regaining his bearings hadn’t helped at all, and those few days felt more like wasted time than the past month had.

Fortunately there was Youngjo, Geonhak, and Seoho at his side to help him, though they had always been there for him since day one.

“Yo, what’s up with the accent?” Seoho teased, “You sound just like you did when you first came from Busan!”

“Not like your accent was any better,” Geonhak scoffed. Seoho grinned the same mischievous grin he always did when he was about to pick a fight.

“At least I’m not always speaking from the back of my mouth, caveman.”

Youngjo shook his head as the two’s bickering escalated before resting it on Yonghoon's shoulder, and Yonghoon laughed as best he could. As anxious as he was, he’d missed them. He’d missed this.

“Alright, alright you two,” Yonghoon finally said as he set his hands on their shoulders. “Let’s not murder each other first thing in the morning, hm?”

“You sound like Youngjo,” Seoho said.

“More like a dad,” Geonhak corrected.

“Let’s be real, Youngjo is kinda like a dad.”

“Are you saying I’m old?” Youngjo huffed, hand on his chest. Seoho and Geonhak looked at each other, then to Youngjo, and nodded.

“Yes.”

Yonghoon scoffed.

“Then what does that make me?”

“An old geezer,” Geonhak said.

“Sing your ballads to all the old folk in the retirement home, you’ll fit right in,” Seoho added.

He took back what he said. He didn’t miss them at all.

Yet despite the humor upon his return, there was work to be done. Like that, Yonghoon was back, back in the city, back on the grind. Already the weight of the days ahead lay on his shoulders, and then some, though he didn’t know where the some came from, or rather, he didn’t want to acknowledge it. He couldn’t, not right now with the others depending on him.

If only those feelings worked like doors — able to be cut off at a moment’s notice without having to worry about them flooding through. Or perhaps they already did, leaking through the cracks underneath, or barging in without knocking, a mystery as to how they did.

Briefing on the current state of the album was, well, brief. All ten songs had already been picked and polished. All that was left was for Yonghoon to record, and then to pick a title track, an unusual deviation from standard procedure, but these were unusual times. Listening to the samples, none of the songs were quite up to Yonghoon’s standard — but Seoho and Geonhak had confidence his vocals could work magic and make a title track appear from the candidates they’d already chosen. The only good thing that really came from the briefing was the selection of _Love Me_ as a bonus track to be added in another round of distribution, perhaps the only song Yonghoon was remotely proud of.

The week was _busy, to_ put it lightly. Yonghoon ran back and forth between the recording studio and the conference rooms, and from there to Seoho and Geonhak’s studios if they called. And then there were the interviews Youngjo tried his best to space out, but the media was abuzz after Yonghoon’s return. If Yonghoon wasn’t in the company building, he was at some TV station, barely able to sit still through the voices droning on and on about the latest gossip. Fortunately, he had an easygoing smile, at least according to Youngjo, and it got him through the interviews in one, shambling piece.

“You look awful,” Keonhee had said one day as he concealed the dark circles forming under Yonghoon’s eyes. “Ah, I misspoke.”

“No worries,” Yonghoon managed to say, smiling. “Just part of the grind, right?”

“Well you’re certainly getting the most out of every penny you’re spending on me,” Keonhee chuckled. Yonghoon grinned.

“Well it is your job.”

“Yes it is.”

“You do it well.”

“I have to.”

It was the night after the recordings were all finished when Yonghoon found himself collapsed on the floor of one of the practice rooms. It’d been a particularly long day — as soon as the recordings were done, Youngjo had driven him to a photoshoot, which required hours of standing, sitting, posing, with plenty of people touching his face, touching up his makeup in between. He hadn’t even had the chance to monitor his recordings, and frankly, he had no strength left to do it either. He’d had enough of the cramped spaces filled with equipment, people, and the general stress of an overloaded week. Next week looked no better: they’d be selecting a title track tomorrow, and after that they’d be storyboarding and filming the music video. How long the shoot would last? Yonghoon didn’t want to think about it.

Yonghoon turned to the mirror. His hair was sticking out, his makeup smeared in a half-hearted attempt to clean it off, and most of all he just looked _tired._ He'd been tired on the island — watching the kids was hard work — but this… this was different.

This was _empty._

His stomach growled. Since when was the last time he ate? Actually, what time was it anyway?

He glanced at his phone. If he was at the island, they would’ve made sure he’d eaten by then, whether by his own stomach whining, or the kids’. The kids should’ve been home, tuckered out from playing after a nice, hearty dinner. What he’d give to have Harin’s mom’s stew right about now… He wondered if Hyungu was still up, working on his homework, or perhaps on another song. Hyungu probably wasn't working on Dongju's song — he hadn’t texted Yonghoon anything about it, then again, why would he? After all, Yonghoon had shut the door on him, on _all_ of them, without word or warning.

No, not now. Not now…

From the corner of his eye, he caught a guitar, leaning against the wall next to the piano. Had one of the girl group trainees left it here? Yonghoon sat up and checked the door. No one seemed to be coming for it. They wouldn’t mind if he borrowed it now, would they?

The same sense of urgency on the island returned, the buzz in his fingers, the warmth in his chest, and that was enough.

Yonghoon played. He played fragments of the song, he played it in its entirety. He sang too, his voice parched and cracked and crying but he didn’t care as he sang the lyrics he- that Hyungu had written in that notebook kept locked away in his suitcase. He remembered the sun, the waves, and the cicadas, all singing along as he ran through a single paved road bordered by emerald, carrying an odd, small child on his back as another looked over his shoulder, taunting, teasing — laughing, smiling.

And he remembered the old grandmother, hunched over a bed strung with cords, watching, waiting, perhaps futilely, for the sun in her life to wake up.

“Yonghoon-hyung!”

Yonghoon snapped his head up to the door. It closed behind Youngjo, and Geonhak and Seoho who followed soon after, as the three sat, cross-legged on the ground beside him. Youngjo sighed, relieved.

“We’ve been looking for you.”

“Oh, really?” Yonghoon asked. “You could’ve just called me.”

“We tried,” Seoho said. “Didn’t work.”

A glance at his phone saw several missed calls and even more text messages flooding his screen. Oh, funny how that worked.

Geonhak pointed at the guitar.

“What’re you working on?”

“Hm? Oh, it’s nothing.”

“Whaddaya mean nothing?” Seoho chided, “You were just going at the guitar a second ago. Didn’t sound like any of our songs either.”

“Is that the song you were writing on the island?” Youngjo asked. Yonghoon hesitated for a bit, but it was useless to hide the truth, and he nodded. Seoho turned to Geonhak.

“Ooh, Geonhakkie, you hear that? Our hyung’s been working hard even on vacay!”

“It’s really, really good,” Geonhak hummed, picking at his lip in thought. Youngjo smiled, and leaned back on his palms.

“What can I say? Yonghoonie did it again.”

“Thanks, but my friend did most of the work.” Yonghoon added, because that too was truth. Geonhak nodded. Seoho, on the other hand, narrowed his eyes, thoughts running through his head as he leaned forward.

“This could easily be the title track.” He tapped his chin. “All it needs is a little more polish here and there…”

“Ah, I’m sorry, but I’d rather not," Yonghoon said, clutching the guitar. Geonhak raised an eyebrow.

“Rather not what?”

“Use it as the title track,” Yonghoon clarified. He looked down and lowered his voice. “I wasn’t planning on releasing it at all.”

“Why not?” Geonhak pried.

“It’s… personal.”

“Oh.”

“I mean, understandable,” Seoho began. “But hyung, we seriously need a title track, and this is _pure gold.”_

“I’m not releasing this song. Not now.”

“You won’t even consider-”

“I am not releasing this song,” Yonghoon said, standing. The others seemed taken aback, but quickly stood up too, brows furrowed as they stared. Geonhak set a hand on his shoulder.

“Hyung, we get it. You’re stressed, but we’re stressed too. We just need one more track, we can take this, remix it, alter it-”

“I don’t care, we are not releasing it!”

“Hyung-” Youngjo tried to say, but Yonghoon whipped around-

“You don’t understand-”

“And you’ve been acting out of your mind ever since you got back from that island!” Seoho cut in. He jabbed a finger at Yonghoon’s chest. “Before, you were complaining you couldn’t think of anything, _anything,_ to fill out the album, yet the moment you come back with a new song, suddenly you don’t want to release it? What’s wrong with you?”

“Everyone, just calm down-”

Yonghoon clenched his jaw.

“I think I can make my own artistic decisions-”

Seoho stepped up to Yonghoon, putting an arm out as Youngjo, as Geonhak tried to say something.

“And we’ve been making those decisions ever since you left, and we can keep making them without you.”

Silence. Youngjo and Geonhak turned to and from each other, eyes wide, horrified.

“Seoho-hyung,” Geonhak hissed, grabbing his shoulders. Seoho turned to him, but Yonghoon didn’t get to- didn’t _want_ to see the mix of emotions going through Seoho's eyes, and he stormed out the room. Youngjo called out.

“Hyung, look, he doesn’t understand, just explain-”

But Yonghoon had already slammed the door behind him.

Yonghoon walked. He walked out of the building, onto the streets, into his apartment, and didn’t stop until he’d got in bed and smothered himself in blankets. His phone rang and rang and rang — but he didn’t answer. Eventually, the incessant buzzing died down, and the room was silent in the darkness.

There wasn’t any use trying to sleep. No matter how tired he was, the emotions swirling in his chest made it impossible to settle. He got up, paced around, actually wiped off his makeup, paced around, ate some ginger-honey, and paced around some more, but still, nothing could fix it. Nothing was working, and Yonghoon fell back into his bed, into his pillow, and screamed.

He’d broken too many promises — he’d broken them all trying to keep them, and he just couldn’t fill the guilt threatening to swallow him whole.

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸

Light filtered through the window, soft, yet painful against his puffy eyes. It was quiet. It was too quiet. It’d been too quiet since he’d returned. At least it was calm now — calm, but empty.

A knock on the door. Yonghoon sat up, though he wasn’t expecting anyone. A voice, muffled, came through.

“Hyung, it’s me.”

Oh. Youngjo. Yonghoon slid out of bed and walked to the door, but his hand hesitated at the handle. Just what was he supposed to say? Of course, an apology was in order, but surely, Youngjo wasn’t angry at him? Hopefully? Oh, but he must have had a heyday last night, this morning, explaining to everyone what happened… Yonghoon just kept causing messes, didn’t he?

He opened the door.

“Youngjo, I’m-”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Youngjo said as he held his hand out. Yonghoon sighed. Oh, thank goodness he wasn’t mad, Yonghoon could almost cry again if he had the tears for it. Youngjo laughed as he slipped his way in, and Yonghoon followed him as he plopped down on the couch.

“Have you eaten? Do you need something to drink?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Youngjo replied, laughing again. “You, on the other hand, look like you need a refresher. Drink some water and wash up, will you?”

Ah, right. Water.

Yonghoon did as was _suggested,_ as Youngjo would’ve said, and drank a glass of water and washed his face, though it didn’t really help the stickiness in his eyelids. When he came back to the main room, Youngjo patted the spot next to him on the couch.

“Sit.”

And he sat down, arms around his knees as Youngjo brought his own feet up to sit cross-legged, the two of them getting as comfortable as they could, like friends rather than co-workers, before the tense, uncomfortable silence settled in.

Silence. Youngjo cleared his throat.

“They didn’t have the right to do that.”

“And I didn’t have the right to snap at them like that,” Yonghoon replied. Youngjo shrugged.

“Perhaps.”

They were right, of course. There was no excuse to have been so angry, even if they had trod on sensitive ground, well, insensitively. Youngjo began again.

“They would’ve understood if you just…”

“Told them?”

“Yeah.”

Told them it wasn’t for the public, told them it was for someone he’d met specifically. Told them it was just too… too personal. Geonhak had seemed to understand at least, even if Seoho was pushing his boundaries.

He glanced at the light filtering through the blinds. Harin would be at the port right now, Hyungu doing homework before his shift at the store. Giwook had probably just woken up, if Dongmyeong hadn’t woken him up earlier. Just what was Dongmyeong up to today? Probably getting into trouble, as always. He smiled to himself.

“You miss them?”

His smile didn’t quite go away as he nodded.

“Yeah.”

Youngjo smiled himself, huffed, and leaned back on the couch.

“Dongmyeong was quite the charmer.”

“You don’t say?”

“Hard not to love him. Harin too.”

“They’re like that, aren’t they?” Yonghoon finished. Youngjo pursed his lips, nodded.

“I’m surprised the quiet kid’s friends with them. He seems… well-behaved.”

“Which one, the little one? Giwook?”

“Yeah, him.”

“He looks like it, but you don’t even know,” Yonghoon laughed. “That kid stole my keys and locked me out of the house!”

“Really?”

“Really. Those three were all in it together.”

“Harin too?!”

“Right?” Yonghoon exclaimed. That day at the store really was a doozy, but the shock on Hyungu's face was priceless, if Yonghoon hadn't also been so surprised. He shook his head. “Ah, but they were just trying to look out for Hyungu.”

“Still, hard to believe,” Youngjo replied. The words spun a bit in his head. “Did something happen between you two?”

“We had a rough start, yeah.”

“Huh, never would’ve figured. You guys work so well together.”

“Ah, it’s mostly him.” Again, true. Hyungu had been the one tying the threads together, making the connections between the fragments. Yonghoon had simply provided a base for him to start. “That kid’s a musical genius, you saw?”

“Yeah,” Youngjo said with a nod. “I’m impressed. His lyrics, his songs, his guitar especially.”

“I know right? And he loves it too.” Yonghoon sighed and sucked in his teeth. “He should seriously consider going into the industry.”

“Lucky you, I’ve already told our recruiters about him.”

“Really?”

“Byulyi-nim still has to approve a trip though and everything, so it’s still up in the air,” Youngjo quickly added. Yonghoon let go of his knees, and leaned back.

“Ah, but still. I’m glad.”

They sat again in silence, but this one was mild, content. Youngjo leaned his head on his shoulder, and Yonghoon grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly. The guy deserved some rest after, well, everything.

Rest.

A loud chime sounded from the bedroom. Yonghoon’s phone. Who could be calling him? He looked at Youngjo, who prompted him forward, before fetching his phone from his room. The number wasn’t anyone he knew, but he answered it anyway.

“Hello?”

“Hyung!" a cheerful voice rang out. "Good news!”

“Harin?” Yonghoon exclaimed. Harin laughed, a little static-y as Dongmyeong and Giwook’s voices whined through the line.

“I wanna talk to hyung!”

“Hyung!”

“Hey hey, one person at a time,” Harin said, obviously to the kids. There was a grumble, probably from Dongmyeong, and a sudden burst of noise.

“Dongju woke up!”

“Dolmaengie!”

Yonghoon chuckled as both Harin and Dongmyeong were scolded for being too loud, probably by the receptionist… Wheein was her name, right? But his smile stayed, and a weight began lifting itself from his chest.

“That’s- I’m glad.”

“Come back!” Dongmyeong cried, despite the constant scolding he received. “You need to sing the song for him.”

“Gimme that.”

“Hyungu!”

Scuffling, but it quickly stopped, probably with a glare from Hyungu directed at Dongmyeong. It was silent, then, for the first time in the few minutes the call had already lasted. Hyungu’s voice was low.

“You remember your promise?”

Ice — sharp, cold, deadly — dangled from those words, and Yonghoon shivered as he nodded.

“Y-yes, I do.”

“Good.”

There was some more shuffling around. When it stopped, the only thing Yonghoon could hear was heavy breathing, in and out. He grinned.

“Giwook?”

There was some prompting by Hyungu and Harin and most of all Dongmyeong for Giwook to talk, and some explanation that “yes, hyung can hear you, you just have to say something,” before his small, quiet voice came through.

“I miss you, hyung.”

Yonghoon huffed, laughing.

“I miss you too.”

“Come back, please?”

“I will, Wookie.”

“Please come back hyung!” Dongmyeong cut in, and Yonghoon laughed again. “I miss you!”

“I miss you too Myeongie.”

“Right! Well,” Harin said, obviously taking the phone back from the kids. “Just thought to let you know the news and all that.”

“You’re not mad at me, Harinie?”

Harin chuckled, and Yonghoon could just see him shaking his head, grinning as sweetly, as cheekily, as he usually would.

“I’ll leave getting mad to Hyungu,” he replied, probably with a glare from Hyungu. “Hope to see you again!”

“Me too,” Yonghoon chuckled.

“Bye hyung.”

“Bye.”

The line closed with a beep, yet Yonghoon kept his phone in his palm, smiling as he looked at his lock screen. It was a selca he’d taken with Dongmyeong and Giwook one evening, when the teens had insisted on cleaning up to get out of homework, and the kids had been fascinated by all the different face filters found on his SNS app. This one, in particular, gave them all Pikachu ears, and it was the second time Yonghoon had ever heard Giwook squeal so loudly in joy. Dongmyeong, as always, was ecstatic.

The screen went dark, and Yonghoon turned it over in his lap, nodding, smiling. Youngjo tilted his head with a laugh.

“Sounded like a party.”

“I need to go back.”

Word that tumbled out before he’d even thought of their plausibility. He needed to go back — Dongju was awake, Dongju was awake! He needed to go back, to see everyone again, to sing for Dongju because that was the whole point of this all-

He grabbed Youngjo’s arm, looked him in the eye.

“I can go back, right?”

“Woah, hold on!” Youngjo laughed. He bit his lip and looked at the ceiling in thought. Something- a plan was obviously forming in his mind. “I think I can arrange something, y’know, since the recruiters might be going out too.”

“Oh, thank god.”

“It sounded important,” Youngjo added. “Is it?”

Yonghoon huffed and ran a hand through his hair.

“I think Hyungu will put my head on a stick if I don’t go.”

Youngjo grinned.

“Urgent, got it. Your face is too pretty for that kind of torture.”

“Yours too~”

“Oh stop.”

The two of them laughed again, together, holding each other as the plan began to unfold between them. Whatever horribleness was there that morning was forgotten as a brand new flurry of work and motivation took over, sun piercing through the curtains, through the storm as the possibility opened up.

“Right, time to make some calls,” Youngjo said. “One trip to the island, hopefully, coming up!”

The door to the CEO’s office stood, daunting. No matter how many calls Youngjo made, nothing could get Yonghoon out of this meeting, not when he had fought with the producers, and more importantly, his friends. It wasn’t that the CEO was intimidating, nor that apologizing was either, but it was the explaining he’d have to do that wracked his nerves.

One thing was for sure though: he wouldn’t budge. This song would not be made public, no matter how good everyone thought it was. Justifying himself, though, would be tricky.

Yonghoon took a deep breath in, out, and knocked.

“Come in.”

CEO Byulyi’s office was as Yonghoon always remembered it. Behind her desk sat awards upon awards, and Yonghoon remembered, fondly, watching her receive each and every one of them, as an aspiring trainee, as an employee in the break room, as an artist receiving it alongside her. Despite her prestige, the office still sat warm, bathed in golden lights rather than the sterile white ones in the rest of the building. Plushies sat on the couches, matching the photos of her dogs framed against the wall alongside other scenic pictures to make up for the lack of windows.

It was on one of the couches that Seoho and Geonhak sat, squeezing the plushies in their hands, obviously nervous. Byulyi herself sat behind her desk, arms folded, leaning back in her chair. Yonghoon bowed to her, to Seoho, to Geonhak, and sat on the couch opposite of the producers as Byulyi leaned forward and propped herself on the desk-top.

“I heard you all had a fight,” Byulyi began. “We all get on each other’s nerves, especially when we’re stressed like this, I get it, but this behavior is unacceptable.”

Yonghoon swallowed and sunk a little in his seat. He barely caught Byulyi glancing over him.

“So, what happened? We’ll go through one by one, starting with Seoho. Seoho?”

Seoho explained his side, but all Yonghoon caught was the accusation put against him: he'd blown up, and hadn't talked to them since. He… he hadn't meant to. A pit formed in his stomach, growing deeper, even as Geonhak added that Seoho had also snapped at Yonghoon, perhaps a little unfairly.

“Yonghoon?”

He perked up. Seoho and Geonhak looked hurt, but concerned too, something reflected in Byulyi’s own expectant gaze. He nodded and bowed, apologizing first and foremost, before he began his own explanation.

“There’s this song I’ve been working on while I was on hiatus.”

“And you were working on it in the company building, off work hours?” Byulyi asked. Yonghoon nodded again.

“Yes, I was.”

“Even with your comeback coming up in three weeks?”

“Yes.”

“You understand why Seoho and Geonhak would want to use it as a title track then?” Byulyi said, more than asked.

“I know,” Yonghoon said. “They’re stressed, there’s a deadline, and they truly just want the best for me, for this album.”

A nod made rounds in the room, the three of them satisfied with Yonghoon’s answer. He cleared his throat though.

“I’m still not releasing it.”

“Hyung, please-”

“Geonhak,” Byulyi said, and Geonhak bit his lip. “Continue.”

Once again, Yonghoon nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat as he tried to keep down the emotions rising in his chest.

“It’s just… it’s personal to me, and meant for someone specific. I wouldn’t feel comfortable releasing it to the public, just not now.”

Weight, silence. Yonghoon wanted nothing more than to reach for one of the plushies, to hold it, tightly, as if it could keep his heart from showing.

Byulyi looked straight into his eyes, something knowing behind them. The producers looked between her and Yonghoon, perplexed, asking if Yonghoon knew what she was thinking, which he didn’t. Was it stress? Frustration? Would she scold him, try to compromise, do anything to release it too?

“Seoho, Geonhak? Can you give us a moment?”

They exchanged glances before nodding, and bowed. Yonghoon stiffened as they passed, watched as they walked out. With a click of the door, he was alone.

“Yonghoon?”

He flinched, but turned to her.

“Yes, Byulyi-nim?”

Byulyi took a breath in, and didn’t seem to let it out as her eyes glanced down at her desk, searching for words, or debating whether to divulge… whatever it was she wanted to say. She clicked her tongue, leaned back in her chair, and folded her arms. Her eyes, softened, looked back up at him.

“Do you know whose idea it was to send you to the island?”

W-what?

Her gaze stayed on him, slightly amused — he must have been staring, slack-jawed. Yonghoon cleared his throat and shook his head. He had assumed it was Youngjo who’d sent him off, but he had wondered why he’d pick that island of all places and not a resort town like Jeju, which by far would have been more relaxing, if not more expensive.

Byulyi smiled, small, before turning over one of the frames that sat on her desk. Was that-

“Yongsun-ssi?”

Her smile grew into a grin as she leaned back in her chair. Yonghoon furrowed his brow, and his eyes began wandering around the pictures hanging on the walls. There was the beach, the port, the cliffside that led to the spot. Alongside a photo of all her dogs together was another small, fluffy dog with round, innocent eyes, unmistakably Gyukie’s. Yonghoon looked back to Byulyi.

“You..?”

“Lived there too,” she finished, eyes fond with memories as she, too, looked at the photos. “Visited my grandparents in the summers, became friends with Yongsun, Wheein, Hyejin. It’s a nice place to relax, isn’t it?”

Yonghoon blinked, then laughed.

“Y-yeah.”

Byulyi smiled again with a nod, but whether it was because she was happy with his answer or simply amused, he didn’t know. She turned back to Yonghoon.

“You made friends there too, didn’t you?”

“A few,” he said, shrugging.

“Including Dongju?”

Dongju. Yonghoon leaned forward.

“You knew..?”

“It’s all Wheein’s been talking about for the past two months,” Byulyi said. “I’m guessing the song is for him?”

Yonghoon’s eyes turned to the ground as he nodded. Whether she nodded in understanding, he didn’t catch. She sighed.

”The view’s amazing and all, but dangerous to get to, you know?”

“It really is,” Yonghoon replied. He’d slipped on the way there, and Dongmyeong’s look, concerned- he didn’t want to think about it. “Ah, but it’s seriously worth it.”

“Right?” Byulyi shook her head. “Just unfortunate…”

 _Just unfortunate he was hurt._ Dongju’s name, his circumstance, sat heavily in the air, and for a moment, it brought silence.

“So,” Byulyi began again, “Youngjo called me, told me you want to go back?”

“Y-yes,” Yonghoon stammered. He looked up. “Yes, I want to go back.”

Byulyi grinned, then cleared her throat as she leaned forward, elbows on her desk, back straight. Yonghoon straightened up as well.

“I’ll be sending you back for the music video shoot then,” she said, “The recruiters are going anyway, so it’ll be like killing two birds with one stone.”

“How soon?”

“As soon as you can finish storyboarding the title track’s music video.” She lowered her head and looked at him. “You know what that means, right?”

Storyboarding… Right, they were deciding on the title track today, then they’d storyboard, record, release. Yonghoon stood, and nodded.

“Y-yes. Understood. I’ll work hard.”

Byulyi laughed, this time, obviously amused. She pumped her fists.

“Fighting, Jin Yonghoon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy almost new years everyone! the last chapter will be posted after new years


	7. Part 3 - The Sun Shines Forevermore

As it turned out, one did not get used to seasickness no matter how many times they’d been on a ship in the past month. At least, that’s how it was for Yonghoon. This time, however, he had Youngjo there to suffer with him, both through the heat, the sickness, and Hyejin and Yongsun’s teasing.

“You two good?” Yongsun asked, Yonghoon’s arm draped around her shoulder. Both Yonghoon and Youngjo nodded, never one to admit their suffering, and Yongsun and Hyejin shared a glance, laughing.

“Right, Yonghoon-ssi, here’s the key to the house,” Yongsun said, handing Yonghoon the key as soon as he had recovered. “You know where it is.”

“Thank you, Yongsun-ssi.”

“Don’t mention it.” Yongsun stood and gestured to the ship. “Gotta help the camera crew now with their leases. Enjoy your stay!”

He waved goodbye to her and Hyejin before turning to Youngjo, and patted his back as the younger held his head in his hands. Sucks to suck for him — it wasn’t everyday Yonghoon got to see his cool facade dropped, and he relished every moment of it.

“Hyung…”

“Oh stop it, you’re a grown man,” Yonghoon laughed. Youngjo huffed.

“Like those teens didn’t take care of you for like a month.”

Yonghoon couldn’t find a counter to that, nor could he find a way, still, to repay them. His grip tightened around the bags he held, filled with candy and toys from the mainland. Hopefully, he could begin.

When Youngjo had sufficiently recovered to walk on his own, _thank you, hyung, for being concerned,_ they started walking down the port to the main road. However, muscular shoulders set on a rather lanky boy in the distance caught Yonghoon’s eye: the unmistakable figure of Harin. Yonghoon grinned.

“Harinie!”

Harin whipped around at his name, and his eyes darted around as he searched for the source. Yonghoon ran — and the footsteps were enough to finally place him, and a large grin spread from ear to ear.

“Hyung!”

Sweat stung his nostrils as Harin wrapped him in a hug, but he didn’t care. Okay, he cared a little bit, but it was Harin of all people, what wasn’t to love? They pulled away as Youngjo caught up from behind. Harin waved.

“Ah, Youngjo-hyung. Glad to see you.”

“Glad to see you too,” Youngjo said, out of breath, bowing. “Forgive me for taking Yonghoon-hyung away all of a sudden.”

“Don’t apologize to me,” Harin laughed. He pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “There’s a prickly guitarist at the store that might strangle you though, so be careful.”

“Oh yeah, about that,” Yonghoon chuckled nervously. “Everyone’s… good, now?”

Harin scratched his head.

“I mean, Dongmyeong and Giwook cried for about a day and a half, and Hyungu might’ve played hard rock until his fingers bled, but other than that, I think it’s fine.”

“Oh dear.”

“I’m kidding,” Harin said, throwing a hand over his shoulders. “Okay, maybe not about the crying part, but everything else? Fine. But I think there’re some kids that’ll be really excited to see you.”

Yonghoon beamed, not at the crying part, but the excited-to-see-him part. He turned to Youngjo, grinning.

“Wanna come?”

“I need to stay and help the film crew,” Youngjo said. He waved. “Have fun you two.”

Yonghoon didn’t need to think — his feet carried him to the house — yet his breath shortened with every passing step, his heart beat faster, and not just from the exertion. Even Harin told him to relax in a concerned rather than laughing way, but he couldn’t help it. They were all he had had on his mind the past two weeks, whether he’d realized it or not. How could they not? He’d made memories, he’d broken promises — he hoped they’d forgive him for his folly.

Harin pulled him behind himself as they approached the door with a mischievous grin on his face. When Yonghoon tried to ask why, he held a finger to his lips, and knocked.

“Who dares approach?” Dongmyeong’s voice said, as gruff as a little kid’s imitation of a bad guy could be.

“Dolmaengie, it’s just me.”

There were scrambling feet against the wooden floor, and then the sound of the closet opening and closing as toys were shoved in and pillows pulled out and thrown on the ground. The footsteps finally reached the door, and with a click, Dongmyeong threw it open.

“Harinie!”

His eyes wandered over Harin’s shoulder, and his grin only grew wider.

“HYUNG!”

“Surprise!” Yonghoon laughed, jumping out from behind Harin. Dongmyeong squealed as he leapt into his arms and buried his face in his chest, his laugh singing like cicadas, his smile bright like the sun.

Giwook appeared at the door, eyes wide. Yonghoon held out an arm to him too.

“Wookie, it’s just me.”

And his lip trembled, his nose sniffled, and he burst into tears as he ran into his embrace as well, wrapping his arms around him and Dongmyeong as snot ran from his nose and he screamed the loudest Yonghoon had probably ever heard him scream. Only Dongmyeong’s laugh rang over it.

“Hyung…”

“I missed you too, Giwook.”

“I missed you more, hyung!” Dongmyeong cried, and Yonghoon could only laugh and kiss his forehead.

“Now now, let’s not compare.”

“Harinie lied to me,” Dongmyeong whined. Harin put his hands in the air.

“What’d I do?”

“You said it was only you!”

“Ah, you got me,” Harin laughed. Dongmyeong, happy with the confession, went straight back to laughing. Giwook suddenly tugged on Yonghoon’s shirt, and Yonghoon looked down.

“What is it, Wookie?”

“H-H-Hyungu…” he blubbered out as he wiped his snot with the back of his hand.

“Go see Hyungu?”

“Oh yeah, Hyungu was so mad.” Dongmyeong lowered his voice to a, loud, whisper. “He was so mad he cried. But he doesn’t want anyone to know.”

“Really?” Yonghoon asked, turning to Giwook. Giwook nodded as he glared at Dongmyeong. Ah, so he was gonna tattle-tale then? He couldn’t wait to see the chaos that’d ensue, that is, if he remembered to do it.

“I’m guessing we should go see him then, huh?”

“Yeah!” the kids said in tandem, and Yonghoon couldn’t help but chuckle. Harin waved his hand.

“You guys have fun with that. I’m gonna be working overtime today.”

“Good luck,” Yonghoon said. Harin smiled and turned back to the port, and the kids waved good-bye to him too before turning back to Yonghoon, expectant. This time, Yonghoon laughed.

“Alright. Wookie, climb on. Dongmyeong?”

“I don’t need to lead,” he said. “You already know the way, stupid.”

Yonghoon would’ve scooped him into his arms right then as payback if Giwook hadn’t clung to him so tightly.

The store was surprisingly crowded, or maybe it wasn’t so surprising considering a) the film crew had just arrived and b) it was lunch time. Regardless, it was filled with more people than Yonghoon was used to seeing at the store, and it was certainly more people than Dongmyeong or Giwook had seen either, crammed into one indoor area. Dongmyeong hugged his leg; Giwook nearly choked him.

Behind the counter, a familiar shock of blond hair shuffled back and forth between the goods being set down and the cash register. Despite the concentration written on Hyungu’s face, there was still that distant look, thinking about something else, probably the book hiding under the countertop, whatever it was this week. Still, Hyungu was handling the increased traffic expertly.

“Ah, Yonghoon-ssi!”

Yonghoon whipped around. A smile spread on his lips.

“Hwanwoong-ssi!”

“Here for lunch too, huh?” Hwanwoong asked. Yonghoon shrugged.

“You could say that.”

Hwanwoong nodded before he glanced over Yonghoon’s shoulder and froze. His eyes widened, and his friendly smile quickly grew into a genuine grin.

“Hey there bud!”

Giwook hid behind Yonghoon’s head, earning a soft laugh from the two men. Yonghoon shook his head.

“Ah, don’t mind him, he’s just shy.”

“I understand,” Hwanwoong replied. He looked down, and if it was possible for his grin to grow wider, it did as he knelt down next to Dongmyeong. “Oh, and who’re you, cute fella?”

“I’m Dongmyeong,” Dongmyeong said and puffed out his chest with a pout. Yonghoon stifled a laugh, but Hwanwoong laughed outright.

“Nice to meet you Dongmyeong. I’m Hwanwoong.”

“I like you already,” Dongmyeong chirped. He held out his hand, his pout replaced with a smile. “Be my friend!”

Hwanwoong laughed again as he shook Dongmyeong’s hand.

“There, now we’re friends. Do you want me to buy you something?”

Dongmyeong shook his head.

“Yonghoon-hyung is gonna buy lunch.” He lowered his voice. “But if you can get us candy…”

“Hey now, Myeongie,” Yonghoon said, tapping his shoulder. “I already got you some candy back at base.”

Hwanwoong smiled as he stood back up with his bags. He patted Yonghoon on the arm.

“You have fun with those kids then,” he said. “I’ll see you at the shoot tomorrow.”

“I will,” Yonghoon replied. He shifted his shoulder. “Giwook, say bye.”

Giwook did not say bye, rather, he peeked out and gave a small wave before hiding back behind Yonghoon. Hwanwoong waved back, then turned down to Dongmyeong and waved again.

“Bye, Dongmyeong.”

“Bye Hwanwoong-hyung!” Dongmyeong said, and with that, Hwanwoong left. Yonghoon finally scoffed.

“Why did you think he was a hyung and not me?”

“Because he’s young,” Dongmyeong replied frankly.

“And what makes you say that?”

“He’s a lot shorter than you.”

Yonghoon bit his lip to keep from howling — if only Hwanwoong was here to hear this! Ah, he missed this alright. He really did.

The film crew slowly started to filter out of the store. In the meantime, Yonghoon took Dongmyeong and Giwook around the aisles, steering them away from the candy section, as they searched for lunch. When enough people left, but the store still not emptied, Giwook slid down from Yonghoon’s back and exchanged a mischievous glance with Dongmyeong. With a nod, they scrambled.

“H-hey! Myeong! Wookie!”

The kids weaved around the shelves, giggling as Yonghoon darted back and forth between aisles in a futile attempt to catch them together. The film crew probably gave a few odd glances as the game wore on, but really? He didn’t care. It was when everyone was gone that Dongmyeong and Giwook finally — screaming — ran up to the counter, slamming down candy for Hyungu to scan. Hyungu shook his head.

“You can’t _just_ have candy for lunch.”

“We _are_ getting lunch!” Dongmyeong protested. Hyungu raised an eyebrow.

“Then where is it?”

Yonghoon stumbled to the counter, out of breath as Dongmyeong and Giwook laughed, definitely at him, and practically threw the triangle kimbap to Hyungu. This was _not_ how he had wanted to reintroduce himself — but he managed to salvage at least some of his coolness (he thought) as he propped himself on the edge of the counter, and leaned forward with a smirk.

“Miss me, Hyungu?”

There should have been some snarky remark, an eye roll, maybe a scoff, but Hyungu just stared, unblinking — frozen in his tracks but thawing in his eyes. He blinked, and looked down.

“Hyung…”

“H-hey, are you okay?” Yonghoon bent down, slid his hand next to Hyungu’s. Hyungu’s head flew back up, and when Yonghoon caught sight of him, he was smiling.

“Yeah. I’m fine. I’m just-”

“Nuh uh, no way you’re fine,” Yonghoon said. “Are you sure you’re not having indigestion or something? Did you even eat?”

“Hyung, I’m fine, I’m fine,” Hyungu said with a laugh. He shook his head. “You’re acting just like a dad.”

“Ah, there’s the Hyungu I know.”

“Shut up.”

“Be nice,” Giwook whimpered, and Yonghoon and Hyungu shared a glance before laughing together, slightly afraid, but not really, of another intervention devised by this kid in particular. Yonghoon bent down to hug Giwook.

“Don’t worry, we’re still friends.”

“Hyung! I wanna hug too.”

“After you put the candy back, Myeongie.”

But more than that, they were just… happy, for too many reasons, for no reason at all. Hyungu bit back more laughter when Dongmyeong pouted and swiped the candy out of Yonghoon’s hands before sulking back to the aisles, and he scanned in Yonghoon’s items before handing them to him.

“Here’s your stuff.”

“Thank you,” Yonghoon said as he passed a kimbap to Giwook. “Can I expect you at base tonight?”

“Do you even know what you’re having for dinner?”

“Nope!” Yonghoon admitted, happily. Hyungu tilted his head and raised an eyebrow, and his eyes darted to the aisles. “Ah, right, I’ll be right back.”

And Hyungu shook his head again, chuckling to himself, as Yonghoon went back to the aisles to get a few more groceries for dinner.

Yonghoon lazed about on the pillows back at base while Dongmyeong and Giwook ran around the living room with their brand new jets and robots Yonghoon had brought, candy wrappers littered around the floor. He’d clean them later, he promised. That was a big lie, but Harin didn’t seem to mind when he came that evening, steaming bowl of his mother’s stew in hand.

“Dinner's here!"

"You didn't-" Yonghoon cut himself off with a laugh. "Your mom insists, doesn't she?"

“You know how she is,” Harin laughed as he set down the stew on the tea table. Yonghoon nodded with a smile, though it dropped as Hyungu followed soon after, eyes clearly dazed.

"What's wrong?"

"I… uh…"

"What he means to say is," Harin butt in, "your agency offered him a job!"

Dongmyeong and Giwook's eyes lit up, even if they didn't quite know what any of it meant, and soon they pranced around the living room, singing "Hyungu got a job!" Their cheer was contagious — Yonghoon turned back to Hyungu with a newfound grin.

"That's great news! We'd be glad to have you on board."

"Thanks," Hyungu replied, though his thoughts seemed distant as ever. Harin threw his arms around them.

"Well I'd say today's a pretty good day. How about we celebrate, huh?"

At that, Yonghoon fetched the bowls, the rice, and the utensils, and when he came back, Harin and Dongmyeong, Hyungu and Giwook were already at their seats, waiting eagerly for Yonghoon to join them. He laughed as he passed them their bowls, and they all laughed together as they dug into their meal. It was warm, familiar, and Yonghoon would've cried if he didn't have face to save — not that he had much in the first place.

"So, hyung," Harin began, good natured as always, but cautious in his tone, "what are you doing here this time?"

"Officially, I'm recording a music video, but…" Yonghoon looked up, smiling. "Really, well, it's because of you guys."

A warm hum sounded through the table. It was true — but the sentimentality quickly went away as everyone cringed.

"That was so greasy I could vomit."

"Hyungu!" Harin laughed. "At the dinner table?"

"Ew…" Dongmyeong and Giwook said. They all shared a good laugh at Yonghoon's expense as they shoveled the stew into their bowls and soon into their mouths, still, somehow, having maintained their appetites despite Hyungu's comment. Harin spoke up again.

"But seriously, how long are you going to be here?"

"A week," Yonghoon replied as he passed a napkin to Giwook. Harin narrowed his eyes.

"That's not long at all."

"It's actually a longer shooting period than most," Yonghoon added, "I think we're adding a few more days in case the weather doesn't line up for a few shots."

Harin made an inaudible “oh,” and returned to his food. Byulyi hadn’t said explicitly what the added days were for, and when Hwanwoong asked why the shooting period was so long, the weather was the reason given. However, Yonghoon and Byulyi had shared a knowing glance.

“Dongju?”

They turned to Giwook, and he pointed at Dongmyeong. Dongmyeong pouted at his stew.

“When will we see Dongju?”

Truth be told, Yonghoon didn’t know. There hadn’t been an explicit time carved out to do so, plus, the song he and Hyungu were working on wasn’t even done. With no immediate answer, Dongmyeong’s pout turned accusatory.

“You promised you’d play your song for Dongju.”

"Me and Hyungu have to finish it first,” Yonghoon answered. He turned to Hyungu. “Hyungu?"

"Right…” he said. The distance in his eyes closed. “Can you still work on it while you’re here?"

"Depends on how quickly we can get all the shots, but I think I'll have enough free days.” He wasn’t certain, but hopefully time would open up.

"We could pull some late nights-"

"I am _not_ letting you fall down that rabbit home this early into your career,” Yonghoon chided. Hyungu seemed taken aback, but the room shared a quiet laugh, and the shock and tension dispersed. Yonghoon smiled, nodded, and turned back to Dongmyeong.

“We’ll see Dongju by the end of the week. I promise."

Dongmyeong leapt out of his seat.

“Sing for Dongju! Sing for Dongju!”

“Hey now,” Harin half-scolded, “finish dinner first!”

When dinner was finished, the kids immediately began to play again with their new toys as Yonghoon, Harin, and Hyungu cleaned the dishes, lined shoulder to shoulder at the sink. However, Hyungu seemed ever absent, clearly still thinking about something else even as his hands placed the dishes into the cupboards, mechanical. Yonghoon furrowed his brow.

“Hyungu, is something wrong?”

Hyungu turned, delayed as he shook his head.

“No. Just thinking.”

Harin nudged him though, and the two shared a look, Harin oddly stern as Hyungu bit his lip. Finally, Hyungu sighed.

“They want me to go to the city after the exams but I just- I don’t think-”

“Hyungu,” Yonghoon said, “breathe.”

Hyungu stopped picking at his words long enough to do as he was told, and when he was done, he looked Yonghoon in the eye, searching, perhaps, for an answer. Yonghoon smiled.

“You know, you can always negotiate.”

“Really?”

“You’re getting hired as a producer, right?” Yonghoon asked, and Hyungu nodded. “You can be a little more flexible about workplace since you’re not an idol.”

Hyungu nodded, but worry was still frozen within his eyes, clearly unanswered. Harin sighed.

“We’ll have to leave for exams anyway, then college…”

“I know,” Hyungu replied. He glanced at Yonghoon. “But still.”

 _How? Why?_ Unspoken questions pricked at Yonghoon. They… they still hadn’t properly talked about it, more caught up in the pleasant surprise whose novelty was quickly fading away. Then again, what had he expected? For everything to be forgotten as soon as he came? An unreasonable expectation, especially for those already hurting so much. He cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry.”

Harin and Hyungu’s gaze turned to him.

“I was a coward. I left after making promises with you I couldn’t keep, and instead of facing you and telling you that, I ran away without a word.”

“Hyung...” Harin said, low. Hyungu kept his eyes down.

“You both, though, are different,” Yonghoon continued. “You don’t have promises to keep. You can leave with a free conscience.”

He laughed at himself bitterly. He seemed cold, didn’t he — tied more to obligation than bond? But it was the best way to talk about feelings without actually talking about feelings, those mushy abstractions that even he couldn't quite place now. Perhaps he was afraid to admit he too had the same fears.

“Things will return to normal, eventually, but in the meantime, there will be people just like you to take care of the kids.”

As the words came, Yonghoon wondered who those people would be. However, the words, after some processing, were accepted by Hyungu, although the same doubt was written in his eyes. Harin clapped a rather wet, soapy hand on Hyungu’s shoulder before he could overthink and laughed.

“See? Even hyung thinks so.”

Hyungu pursed his lips and flicked Harin’s hand off with his usual string of insults, but the trace of a smile on his lips couldn’t help but make Yonghoon chuckle.

Night settled in almost too quickly. As usual, Hyungu and Giwook left first and nearly without words. Dongmyeong, though, stayed at the door.

“Hyung,” he said, pouting as he turned to Yonghoon. “Do you remember your promise?”

“I broke that one, Dongmyeong,” Yonghoon replied, because he had. Dongmyeong’s pout deepened, and he held out his pinkie.

“Then make it again! You’ll be here tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that one too, right?”

“That’s not how promises work-”

“Just make it again, hyung,” Harin said as he folded his arms. “Second chances exist, you know that, right?”

 _Second chances._ Wasn't that what this entire trip was?

Yonghoon turned back to Dongmyeong, who still held out his pinkie, and set a hand on his.

“Dongmyeong, I won’t lie to you. I’m going to be busy, and I may not see you very much, and after a week, I will leave again. Do you still want me to make this promise?”

“Mhm,” Dongmyeong replied. He slipped his hand out from under Yonghoon’s, and held it out again. “Because you’re my friend.”

And that was that.

Yeo Hwanwoong was not a man to be messed with. He may have been all smiles and kindness personally, but as soon as it came to work, he demanded perfection. Perfect shots, perfect acting, perfect _schedule._ Thus, the next morning, Yonghoon was up at the crack of dawn to get his hair and makeup done at Keonhee’s lease, praying the skies would clear by evening so they’d get the shoot done in a single day.

He barely had time to scribble down a note saying where he was for the kids. Could they even read? Well, if they needed help, they could just ask Harin or Hyungu. He really hoped they asked Hyungu — who knew if Harin would scheme with them again?

Yonghoon made it to the set on time, and greeted the film crew as soon as the schedule started in the bright morning sun. Youngjo clapped with the crew as Hwanwoong looked on, approvingly.

"Right, the _Starlight_ shoot has officially begun," Hwanwoong called. "Everyone, fighting!"

The first set was on the main road along the stretch overlooking the port, scenic, nostalgic even. He'd met Harin and Giwook here, hadn't he? Yonghoon biked along the edge of the road, trying his best to make a contented face when the sound of small little footsteps, and perhaps some yelling, shook him from it.

"Hyung!"

"Dongmyeong, Giwook," Yonghoon said as he climbed off his bike and set it aside. He stretched out his arms to hug them as Hwanwoong called "cut!" in the background. "What're you doing here?"

"Hyungu read the note on your door," Dongmyeong said. Looking over, there was Hyungu, standing very, _very_ far away with his face buried in his hands as Youngjo ran to him. Dongmyeong folded his arms over his chest. "You lied to me."

"Dongmyeong, I told you I'd be busy," Yonghoon said to try and soothe him. It obviously didn’t work, and Dongmyeong’s brow only furrowed.

"I thought you were gonna be busy making the song!"

"Dongmyeong?" Hwanwoong said as he approached. Giwook's expression darkened, but Dongmyeong only grinned.

"Hwanwoong-hyung!"

"What're you guys doing here?" Hwanwoong asked, surprisingly not frustrated at all.

"Finding Yonghoon-hyung," Dongmyeong answered, to which Hwanwoong laughed.

"Well, you found him! Sorry he can't play right now, he's working."

Dongmyeong pouted. Yonghoon quickly turned to Hwanwoong and bowed his head.

"I'm really sorry about this."

"Ah, no worries," Hwanwoong said. He pointed at Dongmyeong. "I think you got a bigger problem waiting for you though."

"Hyuuuuuung."

"Myeongie, I'm working," Yonghoon sighed, "how about you play with Hyungu while you wait for me to be done?"

Which didn't do anything to assuage Dongmyeong's mood. It was Hwanwoong's turn to sigh as he knelt down beside Dongmyeong.

"How about you stay and watch Yonghoon-hyung work, hm?" Dongmyeong's face instantly lit up, and Hwanwoong seemed happy with that. He turned to Giwook. "You too…"

"Giwook."

"Giwook. You can stay and watch too if you want."

Giwook narrowed his eyes as the little gears formulated something in his head. His face too, oddly, lit up, and he quickly pulled Dongmyeong aside and began whispering into his ear. Hwanwoong chuckled as he did.

"Are you sure about this?" Yonghoon asked. Hwanwoong shrugged.

"They're just some kids who need attention. Youngjo's not doing anything anyway, he can watch them."

"No, like, these kids can cause some serious trouble-"

"And as long as they get some attention, they'll be fine," Hwanwoong said, a hint of finality in his words. He clicked his tongue. "C'mon, this is the perfect solution. They're obviously not gonna leave you alone, so we might as well keep them where we can see them. You guys love Yonghoon-hyung so much, don't you?"

"We love you hyung," they cooed.

"See? Perfect. Now," Hwanwoong turned back to Dongmyeong and Giwook. "You two know Youngjo-hyung?"

They nodded, and Hwanwoong smiled.

"Go play with him, alright?"

"And don't cause any trouble for him, okay?" Yonghoon added. Dongmyeong and Giwook looked at each other — Yonghoon did not like that look at all — and nodded again.

"Okay."

But it was the kind of okay with no promises made, and Yonghoon was more than a little nervous as Youngjo dismissed Hyungu, and Hwanwoong ushered the kids over to him.

“Alright, from the top,” Hwanwoong said as he walked back to the cameras. “Yonghoon-ssi, to your place.”

Yonghoon nodded, but cast one more wary glance over at Dongmyeong and Giwook, gathered slightly behind Youngjo, whispering and pointing animatedly, before the cameras began rolling, and he began acting.

It didn’t take much longer for the scene to be filmed to satisfaction. The film crew started moving the equipment down the road to Hyungu’s convenience store for a similar scene, and Yonghoon was in charge of, well, moving the bike. He glanced over at Youngjo, but the kids were nowhere in sight-

“Hyung, hyung!” Dongmyeong cried. Yonghoon whipped around, and sighed maybe a little too loudly, relieved. There was one of them at least.

“Myeongie, what’s-”

“I lost Hyungu’s toy,” he said. Yonghoon narrowed his eyes.

“What?”

“I have to find the toy Hyungu’s grandma gave me because I went to the store and got it to play and then I lost it,” Dongmyeong said. “Help me?”

This was — obviously — a lie. Yonghoon set the bike aside, sighed again, and squatted down to Dongmyeong’s height.

“Look, Myeongie,” he began. “I know you really missed me, and I missed you too, and I know you wanna play with me, but I really can’t right now. I’m working.”

“Hyung, I’m serious!” Dongmyeong whined. “Help me.”

“Did Youngjo see your toy?”

Dongmyeong shook his head and grabbed Yonghoon’s hand.

“Ask him!”

Which Yonghoon pointedly didn’t want to do, but Dongmyeong was adamant about it, and in classic, Dongmyeong, or maybe just kid, fashion, wouldn’t budge until Yonghoon did what he wanted. Yonghoon sighed again, this time exasperated, as Dongmyeong pulled him to Youngjo.

“Youngjo!”

“Hm? Oh, hey hyung,” Youngjo said as he looked up from his phone, probably responding to some emails. “What’s up?”

“Dongmyeong said he lost a toy from the convenience store,” Yonghoon said. “Have you seen it?”

Youngjo pursed his lips and tilted his head.

“No? But they ran over to the store a little bit ago and came back with some stuff. They mostly just went to the side and started playing by themselves, so I haven't actually seen-"

“Found it!”

Yonghoon and Youngjo turned to Dongmyeong as he held up a small, wooden car with a grin. One of the film crew members gave them a thumbs up, and they bowed as she picked up her box again and started moving toward the next set. Yonghoon turned to Dongmyeong.

“You actually lost a toy?”

“I found it now, dummy,” Dongmyeong said and stuck his tongue out. Youngjo laughed, and Yonghoon rolled his eyes before laughing right along with him, and rubbed Dongmyeong’s head.

“I’m glad. Keep being nice to Youngjo, okay?”

“Okay,” Dongmyeong chirped, as he held Yonghoon’s hand on his head. When Yonghoon tried to take it off, Dongmyeong only held it tighter and giggled. Yonghoon scrunched his nose, tried to stifle his own laughter as he tried again to slip his hand out and get back to the bike-

Oh dear.

Giwook looked up from the bike, a nail in hand, the front tire visibly deflated, and scurried away. Yonghoon turned back to Dongmyeong, who had already let go of his hand and was halfway to the convenience store by the time he had the sense to yell at him. Youngjo flinched.

“What was that for?”

“The bike!” Yonghoon cried as he ran over to it. The front tire had long been flattened, and the back tire hissed as he tried to find the puncture hole to plug it. Youngjo quickly joined him, and scrambled futilely with the front tire. The whole scene, however, alerted Hwanwoong, and the man dashed to Yonghoon’s side, brow furrowed, and not in a good way.

“Yonghoon-ssi, what’s wrong?”

“The tires popped,” Yonghoon mumbled.

“What?”

“The kids popped the tires and I don’t know why,” Yonghoon answered. Hwanwoong turned to Youngjo.

“I thought you were watching them?”

“They just went to the convenience store,” Youngjo said, “How was I supposed to know they were gonna pull something like this?”

“Hwanwoong-ssi, I’m so sorry-”

“No no,” Hwanwoong said with a sigh. “It’s fine. It’s fine. We can always move to some other scene while we get this fixed.”

Just then, the sound of whining and complaining and general pain caught their attention. They looked up to find Hyungu, dragging Dongmyeong and Giwook down the street by their ears, his own ears scarlet even from far away, as he approached the three men, fuming. He threw the kids toward them and glared.

“Dongmyeong. Giwook.”

They looked at the ground, completely silent.

“What did you do?”

They mumbled something incoherent.

“What was that?”

“We popped hyung’s bike’s tires,” Dongmyeong said. Hyungu folded his arms.

“And that’s bad, because?”

“It costs money and time to replace it.”

“And what do you say?”

Giwook bumped Dongmyeong’s arm, and the two shared a glance at each other before turning back to the ground and mumbling their apologies. Hwanwoong huffed.

“You’re fine, I forgive you.”

“Does that mean hyung can work on the song now?” Dongmyeong chirped.

“Dongmyeong!” Hyungu hissed.

“No, Dongmyeong, I can’t,” Yonghoon answered. He turned back to Hwanwoong and bowed. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” Youngjo said with his own bow. “I should’ve kept a more careful eye on them.”

“You guys are fine,” Hwanwoong said, again, and chuckled. “I mean, Yonghoon-ssi did warn me, _you little rascals.”_

“Hey!”

“I mean it endearingly.”

“Hyungu said that means with love,” Dongmyeong replied, and the redness from Hyungu’s ears spread to his face. He quickly bowed to Hwanwoong.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Oh my- everyone, stop apologizing, it’s not gonna do anything now,” Hwanwoong said, genuinely laughing. “We just need to find a repairman.”

Yonghoon and Hyungu looked at each other. Hwanwoong bit his lip.

“There is a repairman on this island, right?”

Yonghoon laughed.

“I think I know someone. Hyungu?”

Hyungu sighed.

“I’ll call him. Harin won’t offer any discounts though…”

Youngjo gasped.

“He really is a business major.”

They met Harin at the shop, not after a not-so-panicked call, but a series of panicked texts, and he greeted them with a grin the moment they arrived. Not only Dongmyeong, but Giwook ran to his arms before hiding behind him as they approached. They greeted each other, and Harin laughed his same easy laugh as always.

“Right, so what happened here?”

“The kids popped the tires,” Yonghoon said.

“And they stole the nails from the shop to do it,” Hyungu added.

“Woah, okay,” Harin said, waving his hands. “Did you dodge your grandma’s slipper?”

“I can’t believe you don’t have any faith in me.”

He laughed again as he reached for the bike in Yonghoon’s hands.

“Well, at least everyone’s safe,” he said as he squinted at the tires. “It’s an easy fix, fifteen minutes tops if I can find my stuff. Just sit tight, alright?”

The three men bowed as Harin took the bike into the shop, and Hyungu followed soon after, grabbing the kids by their shirt collars and very much not letting them out of his sight. Oh kids… None of them said it, but it was hard to stay mad at them, despite the _inconvenience._

They sat on the benches right outside, turned to face down the road, toward the ocean, but Yonghoon dared not breathe. Hwanwoong may have been gentle around the kids, but now they were gone, who knew what kind of scolding they’d get-

“Yonghoon-ssi.” Yonghoon flinched. Hwanwoong chuckled and shook his head. “The kids mentioned something about a song you’re working on?”

“Oh, yeah, um, that.”

Youngjo leaned into Yonghoon ever so slightly as Hwanwoong continued.

“And they want you to work on it?”

“Yeah.”

“And that’s why they did all of this?”

“I mean, yeah.” Yonghoon bit his lip. “But like you said, they probably also just want attention.”

“It wouldn’t happen to be the song you’re working on for Dongju, would it?” Youngjo asked. Hwanwoong raised an eyebrow.

“Dongju?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Hyung,” Youngjo said. “Just tell Hwanwoong what’s going on, I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Hwanwoong only looked more confused than before. Could Yonghoon share? It wasn’t his place to share such sensitive information, especially since he’d gotten it by stepping on toes-

Youngjo squeezed his shoulder.

“You don’t have to go into details.”

_You can always negotiate._

Yonghoon really should’ve followed his own advice, shouldn’t he?

He took a deep breath, and sighed.

“Dongmyeong’s brother’s in the hospital,” he began, “we were making a song for him, but we didn’t finish it during my hiatus here. We were… planning on using this trip to visit him and everything."

Hwanwoong narrowed his eyes as the words went through his head, looked to the side, and nodded.

“So that’s why you chose such a low-budget shoot...”

“You’re not... judging, are you?”

“Of course I’m judging,” Hwanwoong insisted with a laugh. “I’m always judging. But seriously, you could’ve just told me. I'll move the schedule and everything, you can have your free days now.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yonghoon-ssi,” Hwanwoong said, the smile still on his face, but his eyes piercing, intense. “There’s far more important things to be doing than filming this music video. There’s a sick kid waiting for you for heaven’s sake! I was gonna say, a week’s a little long for a video like this, but now you say that, it’s not long at all.”

Yonghoon searched Hwanwoong for a catch, but another squeeze from Youngjo reminded him he wouldn’t find it. Hwanwoong sighed, leaned back on the bench, and laughed.

”And I have a feeling those kids won’t leave you alone until you’re done.

As Hwanwoong had promised, he moved the shooting period to the last two days on the island and told the crew to enjoy themselves while the weather was still good. When asked what he’d be doing, he smiled, shyly, and explained his plan.

“All that’s left is to track down some parents and get 'em to sign a few papers,” he added with a wink. Yonghoon laughed then, thanked him profusely, and headed back to the house, guitar, notebook, and sheet music in hand.

“Hyung!” Dongmyeong cheered. “Are you gonna make the song?”

“Yes I am,” Yonghoon said with a laugh. He looked at Hyungu, seated at the table. “You ready?”

Hyungu rolled his eyes — of course he was ready. Yonghoon could tell just by how his fingers itched at the guitar strings.

They worked on the song tirelessly that morning, that evening, and the morning and evening of the next day as well, and only stopped when it came to Hyungu’s shift at the store, and dinner, which Yonghoon insisted he start cooking himself. (Harin didn't quite trust him after the first night, and may or may not have helped. A lot.) It was the same routine as before, and one Yonghoon was more than happy to slip back into as they tied the last verses and chords into the waves, and wrapped them all in sunshine.

On the second evening, it was finished. All that was left was to perform.

Harin drove them all to the hospital the next morning as he had done before, but instead of the silence that accompanied them last time, there was the happy chorus of the kids cheering, “Sing for Dongju! Sing for Dongju!” Close behind them, Youngjo and Hwanwoong followed in another car, bringing gifts of their own.

The villages, the hills, the fields seemed to stretch on forever, and the nerves weren’t helping at all. Yonghoon looked into the rearview mirror to try and check on everyone as he warmed up his voice. Hyungu clutched the guitar closer to his chest.

When they arrived, Wheein was at the desk to greet them. She logged the guests, and led them down the endless stream of corridors, towards the room, towards Dongju.

“Hyung?”

Yonghoon, holding Dongmyeong’s hand, looked down.

“Hm?”

“Are you nervous?”

“No,” he lied, instinctually. Dongmyeong was unconvinced, and Yonghoon closed his eyes, bit his tongue, and sighed.

“I am, Myeongie. I am.”

“Don’t be nervous,” Dongmyeong said. “Dongju will like it.”

They finally reached the door to Dongju’s room. Wheein, as she did before, reminded them to stay quiet, at least relatively so, seeing Hyungu’s guitar and, well, Dongmyeong.

“And no recording,” she emphasized as she glared at Youngjo and Hwanwoong. They nodded, and with that, she opened the door.

The sun through the curtains was content this time as they filtered into the room. Dongmyeong’s grandmother greeted them one by one, smiling, even more so when Dongmyeong ran into her arms. Youngjo and Hwanwoong offered her their gifts then: vitamin drinks and ginseng, which she readily accepted. She turned to place them on the nightstand next to the bed, and brushed her hand over Dongju’s forehead.

“Dongju-ya,” she hummed. “Your friends are here.”

At that, Harin, Hyungu, Giwook, and Dongmyeong shuffled up to the bed, quiet, low as they gathered. Yonghoon froze — but at Dongmyeong’s grandmother’s prompting, he joined them.

Dongju lay propped up on several pillows, the same clean, white sheets surrounded him as last time. The same large scar ran across his head, where it was kept shaven, but now, he was awake. He turned to Yonghoon as he approached and groaned. Dongmyeong grabbed his hand.

“Juju! This is Yonghoon-hyung, the one I told you about!”

His eyes, so much like Dongmyeong’s, blinked, half-examining Yonghoon, the other half unfocused — yet even in this daze, quiet warmth poured from them, happy, despite being unable to smile. Yonghoon tried his best to do it for him.

“Hi, Dongju.”

He blinked again, slowly. Dongmyeong squeezed his hand, and pointed at Yonghoon.

“Yonghoon-hyung and Hyungu-hyung made a song for you, wanna hear it?”

Though he didn’t speak, he grasped Dongmyeong’s hand a bit tighter, visibly so, and Dongmyeong nodded for him. Hyungu put on the guitar strap, and Yonghoon clasped his hands together as warmth threatened to spill over his chest, and he announced the name of the song.

“It’s for you, Dongju.”

And Hyungu plucked the notes, soft, slow, as Yonghoon closed his eyes, and the verses began.

_Cicadas sang that summer day_

_And brought you close to me._

_The skies cleared at your smile_

_And everything was alright_

His voice trembled at the words as they came, written in the warm summer sun, tempered in the air conditioning of an old practice room. He took a breath, as the scales turned to chords.

_We played in the fields_

_We played in the sand_

_And the days never seemed to run out_

_As we ran with your hands in mine_

_“How I miss those days,”_ Yonghoon sang, _“With you by my side —”_

_How your smile dispersed the clouds_

_And let the sun so shine._

He looked up, found Harin and Giwook resting their heads at the edge of the bed, caught Dongmyeong’s grandmother smiling along with Youngjo and Hwanwoong, saw Dongmyeong, grinning, as he held Dongju’s hand, still. The chords of the chorus returned to runs, and Yonghoon took another breath, painful.

_The ocean waves that summer day_

_Swept you away from me._

_Even as we became lost to each other_

_You cried out, “it’s alright.”_

_“See? Even hyung thinks so,”_ Harin had said at Yonghoon’s reassurances, but Yonghoon didn’t even know if they were true. But now, with these words Hyungu had written, perhaps it really would be alright.

_We played on the rocks,_

_We played in the sea —_

_The sun never seemed to set_

_As we ran with your hands in mine._

_How I miss those days_

_With you by my side —_

_“How your smile dispersed the clouds,”_ Hyungu hummed along in harmony, _“And let the sun so shine.”_

_Even though you’re no longer next to me,_

_Even as the summer fades away,_

An inevitability, the ever-looming deadline — they sat heavily on Yonghoon’s tongue, but he pushed them aside, as he glanced, briefly, into Dongmyeong’s sparkling eyes.

_Your warmth still sits on my finger tips_

_And your laughter rings in my ears._

_“How I miss those days,”_ everyone sang.

_With you by my side —_

_How your smile dispersed the clouds_

_And let the sun so shine._

_“The days are long without you,”_ Yonghoon cried, alone.

_As I childishly await your return —_

_But with your smile locked in my heart_

_The sun shines forevermore._

He turned to Dongju as Hyungu strummed the last chords, slowly unravelling into scales, arpeggios, into a single note. His doe-eyes stared back, a dappled light breaking through leaves, and Yonghoon nearly choked, his voice lowered to a whisper as the tips of a smile crept onto the corners of Dongju’s lips.

_Even now, the cicadas are singing._

And they did, and filled the spaces inbetween with all the excitement, the childishness, and the cheerfulness of summer.

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸

“Cut!”

The afternoon sun shined brightly that day, the last day of the shoot, the last day on the island. Dongmyeong jumped off the handlebars as Yonghoon struggled to pick Giwook up from the back of the bike, and ran straight to his grandmother’s arms, and with him nestled in her arms, they laughed. Giwook’s own mother came to help Yonghoon, and Giwook squeaked happily as she carried him away. When Yonghoon offered her his thanks, she blushed, and quickly shuffled back to the rest of the crew. Hwanwoong clapped his hands.

“And that concludes the shoot of _Starlight!_ Good work everyone!”

Cheers erupted from the crew, from Yonghoon. He made his rounds, thanking Hwanwoong and the crew, Giwook’s mother again, and finally Dongmyeong’s grandmother with a bow.

“Oh, don’t,” she said with a wave of her hand. “You’ve done so much for me and mine, this is the least I can do for you.”

“No, really, thank you,” Yonghoon replied, for more things than one. “It’s been an honor to be friends with Dongmyeong.”

And a pain in the butt… and also the happiest thing that had ever happened to him. Dongmyeong’s grandmother caught all the hidden thoughts, and she smiled, brightly. Suddenly, it wasn’t so hard to see where Dongmyeong had gotten his own from.

Dongmyeong clung to Yonghoon as they quickly said their goodbyes to his grandmother, and she waved back before heading back to her car to get back to the hospital. Worry had been written all over her throughout the afternoon, undoubtedly about Dongju. She may have said it was the least she could do, yet it meant the world for her to accompany them, not just to Yonghoon, but to Dongmyeong as well. Yonghoon really couldn’t thank her enough.

Dongmyeong tugged on his shirt, and when Yonghoon turned to him, he grinned.

“Does that mean hyung can play now?”

“It sure does,” Yonghoon laughed. “Harin, Hyungu, Giwook! The beach?”

“You bet!” Harin said, standing up from the bench he'd been sitting on as part of the shoot. Giwook slid from his mom’s arms and ran to Harin's own — in other words, he was excited. Hyungu, however, didn’t respond. A glance over to where he was said why: he was hot in talks with Youngjo and the recruiters, and even from a distance his anxiety was visible. Youngjo offered small touches on the arm, on the elbow as the discussion wore on, and slowly, Hyungu eased up. Soon, the two bowed to each other, and Hyungu bowed to the recruiters before walking over to Yonghoon, head raised and back a little straighter. Yonghoon tilted his head.

“Any news?”

“They’re letting me stay,” Hyungu said, smiling. “Um, I mean, I still have to go to the city for national exams, but I get to stay on the island if I want afterwards. Youngjo said I don’t have to attend meetings in person, but they’ll give me a studio when I go to the city.”

Yonghoon grinned. _When,_ he had said — so he was planning on pursuing his dreams in earnest, was he? He patted Hyungu’s shoulder.

“I’m glad it all worked out.”

Hyungu shrugged it off with a huff.

“It couldn’t have happened without you, hyung.”

“Are you okay?” Yonghoon asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’re not this greasy usually.”

“That also couldn’t have happened without you.”

Ah, there was the Hyungu he knew.

“Right,” Harin said as he walked over, Giwook on his back. “We all ready to go?”

“Yes!” Dongmyeong cried. Yonghoon laughed.

“You guys go ahead without me, I’ve gotta talk to Youngjo about something.”

“You’re not planning on ghosting the island again, are you?” Harin said, obviously joking, though a part was still wary. Yonghoon was about to laugh full-heartedly, but a cold stare from Hyungu turned it nervous.

“I won’t, I promise.”

“Good,” Hyungu said. Dongmyeong held out his pinkie.

“You promise you’ll come to the beach?”

Yonghoon smiled as he hooked his pinkie with Dongmyeong’s and rubbed his head.

“I promise. For sure.”

The head rub earned the classic swats, and they laughed before Dongmyeong left with the others for the beach. Yonghoon smiled. Hopefully they’d have many more moments like these.

“Hey, Youngjo.” Youngjo perked up from his phone as Yonghoon approached. “Can we talk?”

“Hm? Of course,” he replied with a smile. “I always love talking with my favorite person.”

“I love you too~”

The two sat on a bench overlooking the port, the afternoon sparkling over the pristine blue sea. A faint breeze, welcome in the humid heat, swept through as Yonghoon’s proposal sat, hopeful, yet heavy between them.

“It’ll be hard, hyung,” Youngjo said as he folded his arms. “You need to come back to the city to do promotions, you know.”

“But I can come back to the island afterwards, can’t I?” Yonghoon asked. Youngjo leaned back and sighed.

“I guess. Would it be like another hiatus, or?”

“I can still produce.”

“You just wouldn’t be performing or recording?”

“I can come back to the city when that time comes, or you could send the equipment over,” Yonghoon said. “I just…”

“Hey, calm down,” Youngjo chuckled. “It’s about the kids, isn’t it?”

Yonghoon nodded, and Youngjo returned the nod as he turned back to the port.

“I mean, Dongmyeong does seem like he needs more attention.” Youngjo sucked his teeth. “With an injury like that, it looks like Dongju will be taking up a lot of their grandmother’s time, even when he comes home.”

“Exactly what I was thinking,” Yonghoon said. “Someone else needs to be there for him.”

 _Especially with Harin and Hyungu leaving,_ he added silently. Youngjo rubbed his chin, then tilted his head.

“You do realize the kids aren’t your responsibility though?”

“I know.”

“And you’ll have to take care of yourself properly?”

“Yes, I know that too,” Yonghoon laughed. Youngjo huffed, smiling, and looked up to the sky in thought.

“We’ll have to talk to Byulyi-nim about it. In the meantime, enjoy yourself, alright?”

Yonghoon smiled.

“Already planned on it.”

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸

Hwanwoong walked along the edges of the beach, breathing, finally, after a long week of just _work._ He may have been working with cameras all day, but still he carried one with him in hopes of capturing the island’s beauty while he was still here. If only he could’ve brought his niece... she would've loved it. There was the sea, the verdant forests that sat on the cliffs bordering it, and the vast, blue sky, free of the smog of the city. He imagined from one of the cliffs the sunset would be particularly beautiful, albeit dangerous to reach. He snapped a picture of the horizon for now — he’d come back later for the sunset for sure.

“Hwanwoong!” Youngjo called. Hwanwoong smiled and waved.

“Hey, what’re you doing out here?”

“Relaxing, same as you,” Youngjo said. He furrowed his brow. “You are relaxing, right?”

“I think you’re the one who needs to relax,” Hwanwoong laughed. “You’re not even my manager.”

Youngjo tilted his head, smiling, and turned away, unable to respond. 

Off in the distance was the sound of laughter, both child and adult. Hwanwoong turned to find Yonghoon and the teenagers swinging the kids by the arms to and from the shoreline, threatening to let go when the waves came close. He crept behind them, their silhouettes perfect against the clear sky, and snapped another picture. He’d definitely send this to Yonghoon later.

Speaking of Yonghoon, he’d never seen him happier than this. Sure, he had been friendly the last few times they’d filmed his music videos, but not even makeup had concealed his fatigue. He’d been missing something then, purpose, perhaps. Well, that and a few good meals.

Hwanwoong was glad to see him recovering. The song he’d written — _Cheerful One,_ was it? — was amazing. It wasn’t his personal favorite, but who was he to judge when it wasn’t made for him? He wondered if his company had pushed for it to be his title track. It certainly had the stuff for it. He would’ve been glad to film a music video for that too.

“What’d you take that picture for?”

“Hm? It just looked nice,” Hwanwoong replied. But more than that, it felt nice. He didn’t quite know how to describe it, but seeing Yonghoon, the teens, the kids, laughing and playing together despite their circumstances — it was _healing._

“So,” Youngjo extended the syllable, “are you gonna include that in any promotional material?”

“What?” Hwanwoong squinted. “No! I couldn’t. The kids' parents aren't here, it’d be a legal mess if I did.”

“There’s something else, isn’t there?”

Hwanwoong sighed, and looked back at the photo.

“Well, that, and some things are just too precious to be shared.”

Youngjo nodded — clearly, he understood. Hwanwoong was glad he did, and glad too they could relax.

Another cry rang out from Dongmyeong and Giwook as they ran away, squealing, along with Hyungu and Harin, surprisingly, from a soaking wet Yonghoon emerging from the ocean. Hwanwoong laughed. Those kids seemed like a handful, rascals even. He meant it endearingly — he knew Yonghoon felt the same.

**Author's Note:**

> happy new year! thank you for reading! i'd like to thank my friends at the onewe discord for beta-ing and providing encouragement in general.  
> on a more serious note, i'm going to be taking an 18-month hiatus starting Jan. 6, 2021, so i probably won't be posting much between now and then. i'll still be responding to comments up until then though!  
> honestly though, this fic has been a wild ride to write, from shower thoughts to binging barakamon again because 2020's been just that hard to crying in the discord because writing is also really hard. thank you so much for your feedback and your reactions in the comments (you know who you are and i love you lololol), and for everyone just taking the time to read this almost 40k word mess. i hope the new year treats everyone well, and the year after, and the year after that one. i'll miss you.


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